


Piece of my heart

by Katzenkinder



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Homophobic Language, M/M, Medical Conditions, Mild Language, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sexual Content, Social Media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:40:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25803757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katzenkinder/pseuds/Katzenkinder
Summary: Between an absent father and a sick mother Lucas wants nothing more than to keep Eliott out of his messy home life. But when his world turns upside down Lucas realizes it time to let Eliott in.
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Comments: 52
Kudos: 243





	1. Under pressure

**Author's Note:**

> This story deals with a lot of unhappy issues so please heed the tags and take care of yourself.

Lucas has the worst father in the world.

It's Friday night and he's pounding on the gate of his father's apartment building. Even with a swank new place in the 8th ème, the bastard still acts like it’s such a hassle to pay Lucas's rent on time. Lucas is so fucking over it. He's over begging his dad for the bare necessities. He's over Mika always on his ass about rent when he knows Lucas's life hasn’t magically improved since the night he first camped out in that damn basement.

"Fucking asshole," Lucas hisses, jamming the buzzer over and over, his frustration mounting by the second. 

This is the last place he wants to be but he needs money  _ now _ . The bougie neighbors are probably calling the police by now but fuck them. He will talk with his dad tonight. He's not going to roll over or take no for an answer. 

He presses the buzzer harder.

After a miserable wait and several admonishing looks from the uptight locals, his dad's tinny voice comes on.

"What?"

"It's your son." Lucas can't keep the venom out of his voice. It's not like there’s any lost love left between the pair so why bother pretending there was. The time spent apart just brought to light how much they’ve grown to dislike one another. "Open up."

"Don't you know what time it is?”

"Time to let me in,  _ dad _ .” He can’t say the word without acid making his mouth curl into an unpleasant grimace. “We need to talk."

"Fine." The intercom cuts off and the gate unlocks. Lucas wants to kick it open. 

His dad meets him at the door. Lucas pushes past him without a word, glaring at the fancy digs - high ceilings, tall windows, polished parquet flooring throughout. His dad sure as fuck made a cozy little place for himself now that he doesn't have a queer son and mentally ill wife cramping his style. 

"You could have called,” his father starts.

Lucas wheels around. "Why? I've called all week and you don’t pick up."

Victor Lallemant is an intimidating man. Even though his build is slim, he’s tall, broad, and well dressed in a fine pair of slacks, crisp white shirt, a bulky gold watch strapped to his left wrist. He’d look exactly like a posh business man would except his blue eyes are bloodshot from too much drink. Lucas’s stomach sours just seeing him. All this luxury and wealth yet his dad still squanders his health on alcohol.

"I'm finishing up dinner," his dad says churlishly and skulks back to the dining room.

Lucas rolls his eyes so hard he pulls something in his brain. The last thing he wants to do is linger here but he's at his dad's mercy. He either needs the money tonight or he’s going to be homeless for the foreseeable future. He’d rather not experience it a second time.

White, spotless tablecloth. Porcelain dishes. Bottle of red wine. Anger churn in Lucas's stomach. While Lucas is surviving from one allowance to the next this bastard’s eating fillet mignon. 

Of course he isn't asked to sit down.

"Rent’s been due for over a week. And I still need last month’s," Lucas spits out 

"Don't take that tone with me, boy."

Lucas crosses his arms over his chest but he can feel his courage shriveling up the longer his father stares him down. Suddenly he feels seven all over again and coming home in his Sunday best with dirty knees and a fat lip. His father didn't care that his son had been jumped by bullies. He only cared about the damn suit and made sure Lucas knew it too. He feels just as small but he can't back down. Not when there's so much riding on this conversation.

“I need money," Lucas states bluntly because he will not beg.

His dad picks up his knife and fork and resumes eating dinner like he didn’t hear Lucas at all. Typical. 

“Look, if you don’t want to pay for me to live with Mika, I can move somewhere else," Lucas suggests. He's talking too quickly now as his heart slams in his chest because this was the moment he’s been hoping for and dreading the most. "Eliott and I’ve been looking. We found a place. It’s small and cheap. We thought we could...”

Bloodshot eyes shoot up to Lucas’s face immediately. The look in them is enough to quell Lucas’s fledgling courage indefinitely. “Let me get this straight. You want me to pay your rent so you can live with another faggot?”

Lucas’s entire brain shutters down. He feels gutted. “The fuck did you just say?”

“Faggot,” his dad yells, slamming his fist against the table and making Lucas jump. The table shudders so violently his glass of wine tips over. Then he’s on his feet, advancing towards Lucas, face tense and beet red. “I let you live with that Mika because I didn’t want you here. But, Christ, who the hell wants to support a son living with his boyfriend? Its fucking disgusting. I won’t do it, Lucas. Do you hear me?”

He's so close and his anger is rolling off him in waves. Lucas can’t stand it. He steps back, heart racing in his chest. He's scared. Christ he's so scared. “Dad, wait…”

The back-handed slap knocks Lucas against the wall. 

Shock. 

Complete and utter shock. And then the pain comes and makes his entire face throb pain. 

“Fucking pussy,” his dad mutters under his bevvied breath “Can’t even take a hit like a man.”

From nowhere Lucas’s anger flares up. He's not a scared seven year old anymore. His dad might be bigger and stronger but Lucas can still do something no matter how dangerous or reckless it is because he's not going to cower to this pathetic asshole anymore. “Shut up!” he explodes. “Shut your fucking mouth, you…”

Another hit lands Lucas on his ass and seeing stars. There's something wet and warm running down his chin. It feels like his lower lip has been slashed open. 

An unnatural silence settles over the dining room like a thick blanket. Blood from a cut on his lower lip runs down his chin. His left cheek is throbbing. It'll be sporting a big bruise by morning. Through the hot tears blurring his vision he sees his dad take slow steps forward.

“Lucas...my god....I’m sorry.” There's a look of abject horror twisting his hollowed features, and Lucas frantically tries to get more space between them. "I'm sorry!"

“Don’t fucking touch me.” He’s never screamed so loudly before. It rips his throat to shreds. Then he’s on his feet, running towards the front door as fast as he can because there is no other option. 

Out. 

He needs to get out.

When he bolts for the exit his dad doesn’t follow. On the table next to the door he sees his wallet and makes a mad grab for it before running out the door.

* * *

  
  
  


There’s an old lady staring at Lucas. He tries to ignore her as he sits on the bus with silent tears rolling down his face. He always thought silent crying was a thing in movies, but no. It can actually happen. It's a surreal feeling to have so much turmoil churning inside and yet be completely unable to act upon it. So he sits with big fat tears rolling down his cheeks, trying to look as invisible as possible in the back of the bus. 

Luckily the driver and the old lady keep to themselves and he’s able to get off at his stop in peace. His head hurts. Each bump in the road and every turn did something ugly to his head so by the time he’s entering the apartment his entire skull aches something fierce.

Mika and Lisa are working so no one is there when he drops all the cash from his dad’s wallet onto the kitchen counter. He adds a hasty note that doesn’t make much sense to the pile but Lucas doesn’t have time to write a fucking novel now does he? He goes to the bathroom to wash his face in the dark. The cool water helps a little with the pain but he’s still careful when he pats his skin dry. In his room he throws his clothes into a couple of gym bags. He can’t stay and they don’t want him here so it’s better just to leave quickly, right?

Right.

Lucas makes his way back to his old neighborhood with a baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses to hide his face from prying eyes on the bus. His face feels like one big, pulsating bruise now. He presses the ringer of the front gate of his home. The house is dark but he hopes his mom will hear the buzzing. Just a few more minutes and he can stop. A few more minutes he can break down. 

Just hold out for a little longer, Lucas, he tells himself as he starts to shake despite the heat of the night. The static from the intercom cuts through his panic and then there’s a timid voice asking, "Hello?"

Even though he clears his throat his voice still cracks. "Hey, mom. It's me. Can you open the gate?”

"Of course, sweetheart."

She meets him at the front door, sallow skin and hallowed eyes like she hasn’t slept in days, and immediately pulls him into a hug. "What's wrong?"

"Can we talk tomorrow, mom?" He's holding onto her and crying into her shoulder. 

"Of course," she says tenderly. "Come inside. I'll make us tea."

Lucas sits down and removes his hat and glasses. His mother balks when he takes off his hat and glasses and asks a single question, “Eliott?”

“No, mom. We’ll talk tomorrow. Promise.” 

There'll be nothing but time in the morning to ply him with questions. So for now she makes him an ice pack while the kettle heats up. The coldness is welcomed. His lip that feels so swollen it feels like it'll bust open any moment. He murmurs his thanks and she goes back to fixing up two cups of tea.

"I dreamt of you last night," she tells him gently as she reaches for his hand to hold. "Our Lord showed me a vision of you in great tribulation and I prayed so hard for your safety."

His free hand grips the mug, teeth grinding. "Yeah? Well it would have been nice if I got the heads up too."

Night's fallen by the time Lucas settles down in his old room, undressed and lying awake in a narrow bed with a belly full of warm tea. Thoughts are nonexistent as if someone had pressed the pause button on his brain. He’s ok with the numbness. It’s calming and makes the seemingly endless night a little more tolerable. He’ll think in the morning. Come up with a better plan. 

Now he needs to talk with Eliott because they had plans to meet up and he’d forgotten. There are several missed messages from him and they go unread as he sends a new message to make up for ghosting him all evening. 

  
  



	2. everybody's got something to hide

Lucas is missing.

They decided to celebrate the beginning of Summer break by having dinner Friday night. First, however, Lucas told him he needed to meet with his dad with a less than thrilled expression on his face. It was going to be a serious talk and Eliott offered to be there but it was shot down with a soft, "You don't want to meet my dad. Trust me."

So Friday night came with Eliott chilling at a bar and waiting for a text from Lucas saying he's on his way. Then Friday night went. He finally gets a message from Lucas later that night long after giving up hope of having dinner with him.

  
  
  
  
  


The radio silence that comes on Saturday is unnerving. Not that they obsessively talk to one another but they do text throughout the day. Sending memes. Asking questions. Shooting off little messages when they’re bored and hoping to be entertained for a moment. Anxiety eats away at him and makes him feel like he did something that pissed Lucas off. He hates it. 

Not getting any answers from Lucas, Eliott turns to Mika.

  
  
  
  
  


Ok. He gets Lucas’s silence now. Eliott knows he’s been trying to mend his relationship with her but he didn’t know she was unwell again. He reaches out to Yann and asks about Lucas’s mom as carefully as he can. It’s stupid and over stepping some boundaries but he’s worried. 

  
  
  
On Sunday Eliott's a nervous wreck. He wants to drop everything he's doing and run to the apartment to find his elusive boyfriend because something isn't right and Eliott's scared. But this parent made plans with him and they're busy all day. He loves them. He really does. But he would love nothing better than to tell them to fuck off right now.

Finally he’s free and he rushes to Lucas’s apartment, full of nervous energy.

"I need to talk with Lucas,” Eliott demands as soon as Mika opens the door. Lisa and Manon are there, staring with huge eyes when Eliott storms into the apartment. 

“He’s not here," Mika tells him.

“He’s not?” 

"No. He moved out to stay with his mom. Didn't he tell you?"

Eliott shakes his head. "When?"

"Friday evening I guess. I came home after work and found some money and a note about his mom in the kitchen. I haven't heard from him since."

"And you didn't think that was weird?"

"No,” Mika says but his eyes look uncertain now. "He  _ really _ didn't tell you?"

"No. He hasn't talked to me since Friday."

Manon reaches for her phone, dials a number, and brings it to her ear. Everyone watches in silence. A few moments later she lowers it, shaking her head.

"Straight to voicemail," she says quietly. “I’m sorry, Eliott. He told me you knew about him staying with his mom. I didnt even think…"

Eliott swallows hard and leans against the wall. He needs the support or else his knees will buckle. What the fuck is happening? "Yann says she's fine."

"I can call her." For a second time she calls and for a second time no one picks up. She leaves a polite message asking for a call back. "Yann knows where she lives." 

Yann sends him the address. Eliott's vaguely aware of the location. It'll take some time to get there and by then it will be too late. He can't be barging into someone's house not knowing if Lucas is actually there or not.

  
  
  
  


"Fuck." He can't stomach the idea of waiting for morning. He wants to see Lucas or at least knows he's ok. He runs his fingers over his lips, mind weighing his options. He wants to go. God does he want to go but there’s a reason Lucas is being so secretive. He just doesn’t know what it is. He hopes to god it’s not him. “I should wait, shouldn't I?”

He directs the question to Manon. Out of all them he feels like she’s the one with the most sense. “I think so.”

It hurts. It hurts to be lied to. To be made to feel like Lucas can't trust him. He pulls out his phone and sends a text to Lucas. 

He doesn’t hang around the apartment. Manon walks him outside. “He's done this before,” she says quietly. "He’d rather fix his own problems then let people know he has them. Only he doesn't realize we'd love to help him."

"Yeah I'm starting to realize that," Eliott responds bitterly. "Sorry. I know you're just trying to help."

Manon squeezes his arm. No harm. No foul. “We’ll find him, Eliott. I’ll let you know when I hear back from his mom.”

“Thanks.”

He’s on the bus home when his phone vibrates. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Eliott heads to the address as soon as it’s a decent time the following day. Manon had texted him last night that she had spoken with Lucas’s mom and, yeah, Lucas is there. Eliott can’t wrap his head around it. The only thing he can think is that he’s somehow to blame for all this mess. Or maybe this was another side of Lucas he hadn’t seen yet. The quiet, secretive one that can't trust anyone. It's a bitter pill to swallow. More than anything he wants Lucas, the love of his life, to know he can trust him.

The house is located in a nice neighborhood with big houses. Eliott’s walking up to Lucas’s house when a woman walks through the gate. Slim, tall, with a head full of thick blonde hair. Eliott bites his lip, he didn’t think he’d meet Lucas’s mom like this, and speaks up, “Mme Lallemant?”

“Yes?”

So much for a good first impression. She probably thinks he’s a thug with the way he’s skulking around her house. “Good morning. I’m Eliott. Eliott Demaury.”

Recognition transforms her face and she beams at him like this isn't the weirdest meeting ever. “Eliott! It’s so nice to meet you.”

“You too. I’m sorry but is Lucas here? Is everything ok? He won’t return my calls.”

“That boy,” she mutters, lips pinched together. “He’s here, yes. Everything’s fine.” She unlocks the gate and holds it open, urging him to go in with a nod of her head. “Go on in, Eliott. I need to get to church but it was nice to meet you, dear.”

Eliott knocks gently on the front door and waits. He doesn’t expect to see such a drastic change in Lucas’s expression. An unguarded look of wide blue eyes and a downturned mouth is exchanged for a stony scowl when Lucas realizes who his visitor is. Eliott doesn’t care. The main things he's concerned about are the ugly black eye and busted lip.

“What the fuck happened?” He's crowding into Lucas's space and gently cupping his face to get a better look at the damage before Lucas has a chance to say anything. 

Lucas is stiff behind his stony expression but his throat works hard to swallow. “I got mugged."

“Oh, no, baby,” Eliott pulls Lucas into his arms.

“I didn’t want you to see.”

"I don't care what you look like."

“I know but still. Do you want to come inside?” When Eliott nods, Lucas pauses just for a moment. “Don’t, uh,....look around too much, ok? Mom’s kind of a collector.” She could collect shrunken heads for all he cares and Eliott wouldn't give them a second thought. “Lucas, don’t worry.”

He quietly follows behind Lucas as they make their way through the house to a bedroom on the second floor. There’s a suffocating stench herb hanging in the air that reminds him of church on Easter Sunday. It’s an unpleasant smell ingrained into his memory. Frankincense. The lights in the house are off but it's well lit with the ambiance of countless candles. He doesn’t want to look but his eyes nevertheless wander over the walls covered in crucifixes and dour faced icons. It feels like he was stepping inside a church and not the home of his boyfriend. No place is left untouched by religious paraphernalia except Lucas’s bedroom. It’s clean and smells like fresh air thanks to the open window, but it’s nearly bare. There's a narrow bed, a chest and a desk with a couple of bags of clothes on the floor. 

The look of embarrassment on Lucas’ face as he shuts the door makes Eliott want to reach out to him. "Not the coolest house in the world, right?”

Eliott drops down on the bed and adopts a look of nonchalance he hopes Lucas buys. “Did you know I used to collect pokémon cards?”

“No.”

“Yeah. I had hundreds. I bought packs with my dad’s credit card. Small amounts here and there so he wouldn’t get suspicious. He didn't expect a thing. It went on for about a year before my parents realized what was happening. By then my room looked like a fucking hobby shop. I had piles everywhere! My walls were covered with cards. My parents were fucking furious!"

Lucas smiles carefully but there's finally some light twinkling in his eyes. “Pokémon cards, huh? I think I’d take those over Saint Agatha.”

Eliott never was a very good Catholic. “Who’s that?”

“Patron saint of martyrs. Mom has a very charming statue of her holding a platter of her severed boobs,” Lucas murmurs and finally moves to sit next to Eliott. Eliott wraps an arm around him. “Can we lay down? I haven't been sleeping much.”

"Sure." Eliott gives him the world’s softest hug and kisses the top of his head. Then they settle down on the mattress with Lucas tucked gingerly into his side, their bodies pressed together from head to toe.

"You had me so worried, babe," he says, brushing his lips across Lucas's forehead. "Did it happen on Friday?”

“Yeah.”

"I should have gone with you."

"So we both could have been mugged?"

"I don't know about that. My left hook is pretty good. Have you talked to the police?”

Lucas scoffs. “No. It was dark. I couldn’t see their face. I just handed over what I could and they left.”

“After they beat you up."

"That's why muggers do."

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want it to become a big thing,” Lucas huffs irritably. “It happened. It’s done. I can’t do shit about it. End of story.”

Eliott holds him tighter, heavyhearted. “Baby, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t. Just forget about it, ok?"

“Mika says your mom’s not doing well either.”

“Yeah,” Lucas sighs, clinging a little closer. “I don’t think her medicine is helping anymore and she won’t talk to her doctor. But she’s not a threat to herself or others right now so that's a plus. I just need to keep an eye on her and keep her doctor updated.”

“That’s heavy." Lucas is talking like a well versed pro. He's dealt with this before. "Is there anything I can do?”

“No. She’s my pro…" his words falter. He clears his throat and begins again. "She’s my mom. I have to take care of her.” 

“What about your dad?” It's unfair. Lucas is only 16. Teenagers shouldn’t have to deal with this shit. At least Eliott has his parents to rely on when things get messy.

“He stopped caring a long time ago.”

"But he at least knows what’s happening, right?”

“No. Listen, Eliott, I know it doesn’t look like it, but I have things under control. The last thing she needs is…” His words catch in his throat. “The last thing she needs is to be taken away, ok? Last time...it wasn't very pretty. "

Eliott nods. He understands that at least. "Promise me you’ll let me know if I can help."

"I will."

"And can you let people know where you're at? Everyone's fucking worried. You can’t just disappear like that, babe.”

“I know,” he admits, eyes big and apologetic. The fresh bruises are jarring as they are ugly and Eliott feels a flash of anger surge through him. If he ever found out who did that…."Sometimes running away feels like the only thing I know how to do.”

Eventually Lucas's body goes heavy and his breathing deepens and he falls asleep curls up at Eliott’s side. Eliott doesn't blame him. It looks like he hasn't had any sleep for a couple of days. They wake up hours later to someone moving around the house.

"Shit. What time is it?"

"A little after 12," Eliott says after digging out his phone.

"I should make some lunch." Getting out of bed sounds like the last thing he wants to do.

"I can go out and get something."

"Thanks but don't worry about it. Mom's kind of a picky eater."

They crawl out of bed and Eliott follows him down the stairs to the kitchen where his mom is standing at the sink filling a pot full of water.

"Let me do that."

"Thank you, sweetheart."

The kitchen is empty. Like seriously empty. His mom left all the cabinet doors open, their bare insides revealed. No clean dishes. No dry goods except from a few cans and some boxes of pasta. Lucas's cheeks are violently red as he firmly closes all the doors one by one.

"Honey, do you want to pray the rosary with me after lunch?"

"Sure, mom."

"Eliott, dear, what about you?"

"Mom, no. He's got some things to do today. Right, Eliott?"

"Yeah. I'm, uh, meeting up with some friends later."

"Maybe another time then? Do you have a rosary?"

"Yes, ma'am." He still has the one his grandparents got him as a confirmation gift. But as to the location, who knows? 

A smile brightens her face. "That's wonderful. I hardly see them at church anymore so it helps to know they still pray."

"Mom, I'll call you when lunch is ready, ok?"

"Thank you, sweetheart." 

Lucas's mom wanders out of the kitchen. The silence is viscous between them. Eliott gropes for something to say to fill the uncomfortable void. "I should go."

Lucas doesn't look at him. "Yeah I think that'd be best."

He leaves without another word or a kiss because Lucas looks like he's about to cry if Eliott stays there a moment longer. 


	3. out of tears

Lucas hates his life.

He's young, cute, and has a boyfriend who he ought to be having a ton of hot, reckless sex with because its summer and clothes are stupid. Instead he has an abusive, homophobe for dad, he's stuck with a mom who's off her rocker  _ again _ , and he's back to being a goddamn liar. 

For someone who hates being lied to he can sure lie like a snake. It's not like he's doing it to be malicious. Eliott simply cannot know about  _ this _ . About any of  _ this _ . So he will lie through his damn teeth to make sure Eliott is none the wiser about Lucas’s fucked up home life. Who would willingly want to deal with this shit? He'll probably took one look at his mom and decided Lucas is not worth the trouble - he's too poor; his mother's too much; his dad's fucking awful. 

He wants to send a feeler text to Eliott to gauge how he's feeling but he’s too scared so he doesn't and tries not to think the worst when he doesn't get any more messages from Eliott for the rest of the day. If he does send something out, he’ll probably just get an all-too-nice text back because that’s who Eliott is. A kind heart and a gentle soul with so much love to give.

He wanted the floor to swallow him whole when Eliott saw the state of their kitchen. It was mortifying. It hurt his ego. Of course Eliott didn’t say anything or act like the empty cupboards weren't a big deal. His mom isn't working. Lucas hadn't had time to cash in her AAH check either so they were living off pasta until then.

Lucas obediently recites the rosary twice after lunch to keep her happy before she retires to the garden in the back of the house. It's ungodly warm out but there's shade back there and it's good she's getting some fresh air and probably praying some more to the makeshift grotto she erected of the Virgin. The frankincense is giving him a headache so he flings open the windows and blows out the dozens of all prayer candles she's lit throughout the house. The last thing he needs on his plate is a burnt down house.

God, what did Eliott think about all this crap? His mom's a good person - a really good person at heart - but if her obsession and delusions were enough to drive her son away then what would his boyfriend think? Lucas keeps busy the rest of the day. If he keeps moving then he doesn't have time to think about Eliott breaking up with him. 

_ Are you ok with my baggage, Eliott? _

He hadn't felt like doing much during the weekend. He spent most of the time in his room, numb and taking care of his wounds. It isn't until Eliott leaves on Monday that he realizes how much of a mess the house has become. So he makes his way slowly from room to room, straightening up, picking up old mail and tossing it, washing dishes, sorting laundry. Taking the clothes to the laundromat is out of the question with his face still so busted up.

Various texts come to his phone throughout the day. First from Manon and then from Yann and since Lucas is now back to lying through his teeth he tells them everything is fine. Lucas feels like shit for lying but telling the truth is not an option at the moment.

  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Tuesday morning finds him at the bank so he can deposit the check in his mom's account. He calculates as the curious teller works. He knows she's taking peeks at his face and keeps his chin tucked down. A good chunk of the money will go to the bills his mom hasn't paid yet. It would be another month until she gets another check so Lucas swallows his pride and goes to the food pantry at their church. The queue is long and filled with mostly older couples and young mothers. He feels so out of place but he's not a stranger here. It doesn't make it any easier.

The priest recognizes him and asks how his mother is doing. He knows all about the Lallemant family and is a genuinely good confidant for his mom but Lucas likes to keep his distance.

"Good morning, Lucas. How’ve you been doing?"

He looks down at his shoes to keep his face hidden as much as possible from the priest. His black eye is fading but the bruise is still going to be obvious for the next couple of days. "Fine. Thanks."

"And your mom?"

He shrugs. "Same as yesterday."

"I'm sorry, Lucas."

Lucas is starting to hate those two words strung together. Offering condolences isn't going to help put food on the table, pay the overdue bills, or help his mom. They're just empty words people say when they have nothing else to offer.

"It's fine," he says, teeth clenched. "She'll be fine."

"She says you've moved back home."

"For a little bit yeah. Until she gets better."

"It's good she has a son like you, Lucas. Please let me know if you need anything."

What the fuck can a priest do? Lucas thanks him away and slips inside the food pantry when it's his turn. It's more than a pantry. It's a well lit room that otherwise would have been unused space in the church's basement. He picks through the donated items carefully for the usual staples, making sure to not to take too much because he knows there are people worse off than he is. He'll go to the store to buy the rest of the stuff to last them to the next check. 

He needs to keep moving so he doesn't think beyond the present. He doesn't want a spare moment to think about his dad or how much he misses Eliott.

He hadn't talked to his dad since the attack. What was there to say besides an 'I'm sorry' that Lucas would never accept? He decided not to go to the police. Another person involved in his personal life feels like a violation. First Eliott and then Father Thomas. A third was out of the question. If his dad kept his distance that was good enough for Lucas for now.

Lucas is browsing the €1 section of the grocery store for knock off pop tarts when his phone goes off.

Lucas stares at Eliott’s text for a long moment, nibbling on his lower lip as he considers his response. God, what he wouldn't give to go.meet Eliott and forget about his life for a couple of hours. But Eliott might ask questions and Lucas doesn't want to lie more than he has too.

He shots back a quick text, loads the cart up, and checks out as quickly as he can. Again there's another person - a pretty girl with deep purple hair - gaping at his face and probably judging him because all the items he's buying are all dirt cheap or on sale. His skin crawls. He can't wait to go back home, crawl into bed, and sleep the day away because being awake is fucking horrible. 

  
  


The text goes unanswered. Texting back could lead to asking him to come over and that's not a possibility because he loves Eliott too much to drag him into all this shit. He tells himself there are things he needs to do. He has to keep busy or things will fall apart. 

So yeah there are a lot of things Lucas hates about his shitty ass life.

* * *

  
  
  


Lucas is alone in the house again. That happens a lot now since his mom is spending more and more time at church. He wonders if Father Thomas would consider her a loitering and kick her out or call the cops. People don’t generally hang out in churches but if she’s just there praying then what’s the harm. Still he’s worried. He doesn’t want his mom to get in trouble. If the police are called who knows what she’ll say. If she says the wrong thing it could mean a nonstop trip to the psych ward. Lucas needs to cool his worry so he picks up the phone and calls the church off. The voice on the other end is an older woman. 

“Good morning, Mme Laurent,” he starts.

“Ah, Lucas, how are you?”

It’s never a good sign to be one a first name basis with the church secretary. He clenches his teeth and politely asks to speak with the Father if he’s available.

“Of course, dear. Of course. I’ll put you on hold.”

The hold is a good ten minutes with terrible chamber music fading in and out. He tries to figure out what he wants to say that doesn't not flat sound like he's begging for the priest to leave his mom alone. She’s not hurting anyone. Eventually the music stops and the priest picks up.

“Good morning, Lucas.”

“Morning.” He tried not to sound so glum but it’s pointless. His tongue is too thick to say work out any pleasantries but Father Thomas beats him to the point.

“Are you calling about your mother?”

“Uh, yes, actually.”

“You don’t need to worry, Lucas. She’s here.”

“She’s not bothering you or anything, is she? I know she’s been there a lot this week and she doesn’t mean to be weird about it. She just likes being there. It’s a comfort, you know? So you’ll call me if you want her to leave, right? And not the cops?”

“My dear boy, your mother is one of my oldest friends. I’ve no intention of casting her out,” Father Thomas replies gently. “The church will always be a refuge for people who need its walls.”

His eyes sting and his throat tightens. He forgot how nice it is to have an adult to trust. “Thank you, Father.”

“If I may ask. Is everything all right at home?”

“She’s just having a hard time.” That's all he'll allow. He doesn’t know how much Father Thomas knows about this mom’s mental health so he won't risk divulging any more information. “She’ll come around.”

“It’s good she has someone to watch over her. She has been so lonely since your father left.” And her ungrateful son too, he thinks bitterly. “I know she's happy to have you back.”

“I’m happy to be back. Let me know if she gets to be too much and I’ll come get her, ok?”

“I promise I will.”

They say their goodbyes and hang up.

  
  


* * *

  
  


It's atrocious how much dust his mom's countless statues accumulate. Not that his mom doesn’t clean. It’s just that there are so many of them and Lucas has a lot of time to kill. The latest addition to his mother's collection is a 1 meter tall statue of St. Agatha. Catholic art has always disturbed him and this statue isn't an exception. 

After a couple of days he’s satisfied with how the parlor and foyer look and then moves on to the next area. He hauls his bucket for rags and cleaning supplies to the spare bedroom that his mom long since converted to an office, feeling a lot like Cinderella's brother if she had one.

The office is a mess of papers and binders, forgotten folders, and a desk with an unused computer. His mom was evasive when he asked how long it’s been since she worked and never ended up with a straight answer. By the state of the room it's probably been about a month now and the creepy statues have slowly made their way inside. He sighs deeply, feeling tired and overwhelmed by his mom's weakening mental state, and wonders if and when she will ever become normal again.

He ignores the statues for now, he’s seen enough and they haven’t done shit for his mom or him, so he starts with the piles of discarded mail on the floor. Newspapers, magazines, old bills. He shoves everything in the trash bag aside from the bills. He’ll go over them later. He empties the trash can besides the desk. A sheet of paper with Hôspital Hôtel-Dieu’s letterhead catches his attention. Thinking it's another bill he opens it. 

_ Mme Marie Lallemant, I regret to inform you that your biopsy results came back positive for breast cancer. I’ve tried to contact you by phone to discuss how we can move forward but you have not returned my messages. Please call our office to schedule a consultation. _

  
  


* * *

Lucas doesn’t think he has ever cried so much in his life before. The heartache he felt with Eliott doesn't compare with the pain that consumes him as he waits for his mom to come home. As soon as he read the letter he wanted to call her and scream at her through the phone but he stopped himself in time. So he fumes and tears the office apart for more damning documentation. More letters, test results, more evidence that his mom has cancer and is willfully ignoring it.

When he hears the front door open, he bolts out of the office and down the hallway. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you had cancer?”

“What?”

“Cancer! I found the letter from the hospital. You had a biopsy that came back positive a month ago!”

His mom looked shaken like the last person she expected to yell at her is her own son. Suddenly he notices just how ill she really looks - pale and hollowed cheek and eyes. He thought it was because she wasn’t sleeping well. Instead it's the insidious cancer slowly eating away at her tissue. 

She advances towards him, eyes alive with anger, and rips the letter from his hands. They stare each other down. “Do not go through my things, Lucas.”

“I’m cleaning your firthy house,  _ mom. _ Why aren't you getting treatment?”

“I don’t need it,” she says, tearing the letter and letting the pieces fall to the ground. “I just need to pray and God will take care of everything. If He wants me to join him in heaven then so be it. I do not have the right to deny him.”

Lucas runs his hands through his hair. He’s so close to screaming - he can feel the fire in the belly rise to his throat. “Are you listening to yourself, mom?! If you don’t get treated, you will die! What about me? If you die what will happen to me?”

His mom gives him a sad smile. “Sweetheart, your father will…”

“ _ Dad _ ? Who the fuck do you think did this to my face?”

His mom stares, horrified. “What?”

“He hit me, mom!” He hates how the tears in his eyes undermine his anger. “I went to his place on Friday to ask for rent money. He was drunk and he hit me.”

“Oh, my sweet boy,” she whispers, stepping closer and cupping his check tenderly. “I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be. This is probably just a part of God’s great plan for me. He doesn’t give people more than they can take right? Well he gave me two shitty parents and I think that’s more than one person can handle.”

“Lucas, wait!”

But it’s too late. Lucas is already running out the door and he doesn’t look back.


	4. I want to be sedated

Eliott’s waiting on the front stoop of his apartment building, legs jerking up and down in tandem. He’s biting the nails of one hand, with the other one he’s holding his phone and reading the brief text Lucas sent earlier. He’s gotten no answers since so all he can do is sit and wait. Sit, wait, and hope Lucas will confide in him. Even if he doesn’t talk, doesn’t trust Eliott enough to open up, Eliott hopes Lucas will realize he'll still be here for him regardless. 

Minutes drudge by. Eliott thinks about calling Lucas when he sees him enter the courtyard, just a slight shadow in the oncoming summer dusk. Eliott’s on his feet in an instant and hurries to meet him.

Something is wrong. Something is so wrong. He can feel it. And then Lucas’s mask, hard and turbulent, is fracturing as soon their eyes meet. It’s horrible. Eliott wordlessly pulls him into his arms so Lucas can cry against his chest. Sobs, loud and uncontrollable, rack Lucas’s body and break Eliott’s heart. There’s no way to console such heart wrenching sadness except to hold on and ride out the terrible storm together.

“She’s sick, Eliott.”

Eliott keeps Lucas close, cheek resting on his head, rocking him ever so gently. “Who is?”

“My mom. She has cancer. She found out a month ago and didn’t tell me and isn’t getting treated and she’s going to…” He huddles against Eliott’s chest again, unable to continue as if the words burnt his mouth. 

_ Fuck.  _ He holds on tighter for a little longer. “Come on, babe," he says as gently as he can. "Let’s go inside.”

Eliott takes Lucas straight to his bedroom despite the worried looks of his parents and sits him down on the bed. Immediately Lucas pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs. Eliott sits down so he can get a good look at his boyfriend, one leg tucked under his lap, the other one dangling over the edge of the bed. The wild emotion that took control outside has calmed leaving Lucas unnaturally subdued.

“When did you find out?”

“This afternoon. I found a letter in the trash when I was cleaning,” he struggles to say, face twisting with repressed anguish. “I confronted her and you know what she said? If she’s going to die then it’s god’s will. But what about me, Eliott? What am I supposed to do if she dies?”

“She won’t,” he presses. Even as the empty words leave his mouth he knows it’s a stupid thing to say. 

“How do you know? She won’t get treated and it’ll spread." Lucas buries his face. "She’ll leave me like everyone else.”

“But what about your dad? Does he know? Can't he say something to her?”

Lucas's sardonic chuckle chills Eliott. “Yeah, my dad, that fucking asshole. He’s not going to help.” He looks up gestures vaguely to his discolored face. “He’s the one who did this to me.”

He tries to choke down the oncoming outrage. “He beat you up?! You told me you were mugged!”

"I didn't want to say anything." Lucas looks utterly miserable.

"What happened?"

"I told him about our plans to move in together. Well he obviously didn’t like the idea.”

“Jesus Christ, Lucas! You should have gone to the police!”

Ire flares up in Lucas’s watery eyes. “That’s easy for you to say! I don’t want the police involved. I don’t want strangers involved. My dad is out of my life and my mom is going to die and I’m going to be alone.”

Eliott hugs him tightly. “You’re not alone, Lucas. I’ll be with you no matter what.”

“How can you say that? I’m a fucking mess. ”

“Because I love you. Because I want to be with you no matter what."

Lucas studies him quietly for a long moment, eyes still big and shiny with tears. "I don't really deserve you. After all the shit I said to you about trust…turns out I'm just as afraid to tell the truth as you were." 

“No, Lucas, no. This isn’t the same situation. Me trying to kiss Idriss is nothing compared to this. This is hard and it's scary.” He cups Lucas’s face in his hands and presses their foreheads together. “Thank you for telling me.”

He feels Lucas's hands cover his own. Tears are streaming down his face when he says, “Thank you for staying.”

Lucas finally succumbs to his exhaustion a little while later in Eliott's bedroom. Eliott kisses his forehead gently, grabs his phone, and heads out to the hallway. He pulls up his contact lists and finds Yann and sends a quick message. He’s never been so angry in his life. If he was alone he'd punch the fucking wall he leaning on.

He grabs some water bottles from the fridge in the kitchen. His parents are still in there, lingering over the remnants of their forgotten dinner and at him expectantly.

“What?” His mom levels him with a singular look and he folds in on himself. “Look, I don’t know how much he wants me to tell you but he’s dealing with some pretty serious shit.”

“It looks like someone had beat him up," his dad says.

“Well they did.”

“Who?”

Eliott forces a shrug. “He doesn’t know,” he says, hoping they would leave it. His mom's jaw clenches while his dad swears under his breath.

“Did he report it?”

“No.”

“Eliott, this is serious. If they aren’t reported it will just happen again to someone else.”

“I know, mom! It’s just...there’s a lot going on with him and I don’t want to push him to do anything he doesn’t want to do right now, ok?”

His mom finally backs down and takes a big gulp of wine. "Fine. Tell him to come to me when he's ready to talk.”

His mom ever the protector. He’s crossing the kitchen and wapping his arms around her before the idea even formulates in his mind and then he hugs his dad too. Suddenly it’ all so sobering how lucky he is to have two parents who give a damn. “Tell Lucas he can come to us with anything, ok? Not just about this.”

“I will, dad, thanks.”

He’s back in the hallway when his phone vibrates. In the kitchen he hears the chairs scrape against the floor as his parents get ready to leave for the night. He keeps a smile on his face as he bids them goodnight.

  
  
  
  


Eliott nicks Lucas's phone and searches through his contact list. There’s a name and an address under his dad’s contact information which Eliott writes down quickly. He's not familiar with the particular location but that won't stop him. Lucas stirs on the bed. “Eliott?”

“I’m here, babe. Just charging your phone.” Feeling a little guilty he plugs in Lucas’s phone and then hands him a bottle of water. “Here.”

Lucas is barely awake when he takes the bottle and downs half the contents in one go. 

"Do you want to stay over?"

"Do you mind?"

"Course not. Have you had dinner? Do you want something to eat?"

"No," he replies, curling up on the bed again and holding his arms out to Eliott. Eliott climbs into bed and covers his body with his own. “Can you kiss me, Eliott? I don’t want to think right now.”

That’s perfect because Eliott’s done thinking for the night too. They come together, lips gently pressing together first because Eliott's missed him so much. Lucas is soft and warm beneath him. Clothes slip off one article at a time because neither one is willing to tear their lips away. It's a slow, dizzying dance. But eventually they are both naked and shuddering against one another, bodies moving and undulating in unison. Eliott's gently kissing lines up and down Lucas's chest, tonguing his nipples deftly. Eyes closed and head thrown back, Lucas's expression is soft and blissed out.

"You're so beautiful," Eliott whispers against the smooth golden skin beneath his lips, evidence of Lucas's love for summer sunshine.

Lucas is sprawled under him, limber legs already wrapped around his hips and crossed at the ankles, grinding their fattening cocks together. Eliott's tongue is doing way too many good things to Lucas's body right now.

"Fuck, Eliott, baby, I need you…"

Lucas's plaintive whine goes straight to Eliott's dick. "I know." God, he loves it when Lucas gets needy like this. He wants to drag this out for as long as he can so that the only thing Lucas can think of is this physical touch to ground him. "I got you."

He kisses his way down the length of the soft, willing body beneath him, feeling the wet tip of Lucas's cock skim his belly and chest his crawls down the bed. He feels it press against his throat and then his chin. He doesn't know if Lucas is breathing anymore at this point. He gingerly runs his lips across the head, barely slipping the tip in. When Lucas makes a pathetic moan, Eliott stops playing and takes him into his mouth and Lucas’s brain officially shuts off. 

It’s good. It's so good. 

“I love you, Eliott," his gasps.

Eliott sucks him harder.

Lucas's legs start to quiver; his body tenses up. "Faster," he breathes heavily. His hands are in Eliott's hair, tugging harder than usual. "Please…"

Eliott reaches between his own legs, tugging his own neglected cock and coming while Lucas spills into his mouth, breathless and rung out from release. Lucas curls up, already half asleep, while Eliott cleans up with a towel before settling down besides his boyfriend, foreheads touching.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Eliott,” Lucas whispers quietly, eyes impossibly big and pleading.

Eliott smiles and kisses the tip of Lucas’s nose. “Me too.”

They settle down, Lucas snuggled against Eliott’s side with his head on his chest, already fast asleep. It takes much longer for Eliott to relax. He has the bastard’s address. He could go there now and be back in an hour. Lucas wouldn’t have to know. But Eliott doesn’t want to leave Lucas here alone. Knowing Lucas needs him is the only thing keeping Eliott away from Victor tonight.

* * *

  
  
  


Lucas says he’s going home over breakfast of the orange juice and pastries Eliott had gone out and grabbed earlier that morning.

“Are you sure?”

Lucas nods glumly. “I need to talk with my mom and try to convince her to get treated. If I can’t then I need to talk with her psych doctor. I don’t know if he knows about this yet.” Lucas’s voice is low and mechanical. Eliott reaches out and clasps his hand, squeezing a little until Lucas looks up at him. 

“I’ll walk you home when you’re ready.”

* * *

  
  
  


Lucas steps through the front door and immediately hears his mom shouting in the front parlor. He stares at the closed door, eyes huge from shock. She's livid. Lucas can't remember the last time she ever raised her voice not even when his dad left them. She had been tearful but not angry. 

He stands there too dumbstruck to move. His heart beats fast and he feels faint. She's screaming at her estranged husband and his ears ring when Lucas hears his name being said over and over. Part of him wants to run away but his bones feel stuck in place.

The one-sided conversation ends abruptly and the door swings open. His mom's red faced, eyes a stormy blue. When she sees her son, her expression hardly changes.

"Lunch is in the kitchen," she snaps before stomping down the hallways.

Lucas follows the stranger meekly. In the kitchen his mom creates a ruckus as she makes tea. He sits down at the table, too on edge to eat or to remember he's the one who should be upset. Her anger has totally eclipsed his own. They don't talk as the water heats up in the kettle. More slamming cabinet drawers, and his mom takes out a pack of cigarettes. She shoves one between her lips, lights it quickly, and sucks in greedily.

Lucas stares. Since when did she smoke?

The kettle whistles and she prepares two cup of tea. 

"We're out of sugar," she says stiffly as he places the cup hard on the table in front of Lucas. The cup rattles in the saucer and the tea spills a little. 

His mom alternates between smoking and drinking her tea in moody silence. Eventually she's calm enough to settle down across from Lucas. Her expression is grim, her eyes are set as she studies him. Lucas looks back, not sure what to say.

"I've decided to get treatment," she states bluntly. "I've called my doctor and we are meeting on Monday to go over my options."

Now Lucas really doesn't know what to say. A million questions fill up his brain. He knows he should be happy but he's so confused.

"Why?"

"Why the change of heart? I realized that if God intended me to die, I would be leaving you alone. It's clear your father does care about you and will continue not to care. I can't do that to you." Her honesty is like a punch in the stomach. What had he ever done to his father? She takes a deep breath, softens, and takes his hand in hers. "I know it hurts, Lucas."

"Did you tell him about it? About the cancer?"

"No. You're not the only one he's stopped caring about. But we have each other. That’s all that matters to me."

"Mom, he's never hurt you, right?"

"You know he's always had a temper but no, Lucas, he never hit me."

That's one good thing at least. “Should we tell the cops?"

"Do you want to?"

Lucas shrugs helplessly. He is so damn tired of not having any answers he could scream. “Maybe later. After your treatment,” he suggests softly. “I don’t think we could deal with both things at the same time, you know?"

She squeezes his hand to tell him she understands. “Ok. Just forget about that asshole for now. It’s just me and you from now on."

  
  
  



	5. with a little help from my friends

The following weeks are a confusing whirlwind of doctor appointments and all-day outpatient visits for his mom’s chemo infusions. Lucas accompanies her for the initial consultation with Dr. Abebe and takes diligent notes. He plans to consult with Imane later on, hoping she could break all this down so he could understand better. His mom holds his hand and asks a few tentative questions about the length of treatment, types of medicine, and the side effects. She’s scared. Lucas is scared for her. Chemotherapy isn’t a pretty process. It’s demanding and harsh but the new Marie Lallemant is a fighter. 

Around him his group of friends begin to find out what’s going on in Lucas’s life. He’s not as mad as he thought he would be. Yeah he's irritated at first but he realizes soon enough having their support gets him through the worst days when his mom’s too weak to from from her bed and he can do nothing but worry. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


Another Monday. 

Another long day at the outpatient cancer center. After the first week of infusions, his mom said he didn’t have to stay the entire time. However it never felt right to leave her alone in the company of nurses who were practically strangers. Other than taking a walk around the courtyard or grabbing lunch for them, he's glued to her side a book in his lap while drugs are pumped into her bloodstream as she reclines in a chair. 

He’s out in the sunny courtyard, taking in the fresh air and sunshine. The recycled air inside is stale and cold and while the windows are large they can't be open so the outside courtyard with it's well cared for garden is a rejuvenating change of scenery. He’s sitting on a stone bench, basking in the sunshine, when he hears a familiar voice call out to him.

He opens his eyes and sees Imane standing not too far away. A smile spreads across his face. Warmth fills his heart. Sadly enough he hasn't had the opportunity to hang out with her since summer began and he misses his friends so much. “Hey!"

Imane sits down next to him, mood heavy. “How's your mom?”

"Oh, you know. Tired. Grumpy. She had me shave her head yesterday. Said she was tired watching it fall out."

“I'm sorry, Lucas,” she says, slipping her hand in his. 

He shrugs. In all honesty he's getting tired of hearing people say they were sorry about the whole thing. He’s sorry too but wallowing in self-pity is getting old. It's better to be proactive like his mom who had appeared in his room with an electric razor and a determined glint in her eyes the night before. What’s happening is happening and neither of them can do anything about it except accept it for what it is: a crappy, miserable experience. 

“Do you want to grab some dinner?”

He looks back at the center, wondering how his mom's doing or if she needs anything. “I don’t know.”

“Come on," she urges. "It’ll be nice to get a break away from this place. There are some places just down the street."

Lucas doesn’t want to readily admit but taking a break with Imane is just what he needs. Suddenly he finds his thoughts not centered on his mom or the housework waiting for him back home for a change. He's sitting outside MacDo slurping a milkshake while Imane talks about her summer which is far more interesting and fun to think about than his. 

“So it sounds like things between you and Sofiane are getting serious,” Lucas says with a smile. “When are you guys going to take a vacation to Morocco?”

Imane blushes, actually blushes, before she elbows him in the side. “My mom would kill me first. How are you and Eliott doing?”

“Dodging my question I see. Typical.”

“I’m giving you an out before you say something stupid,” she replies. “So how are you guys?”

Lucas smiles. “Great, Imane, really great. I’m really glad I told him everything. It’s helped me so much. I don’t think I could do this on my own without him. Without any of you actually."

“So you’ve finally realized that’s what friends and boyfriends are for. Took you long enough.”

Camping out at the outpatient infusion center with his mom takes up most of his time during treatment week. Then they deal with the aftermath together the following two weeks until the next cycle starts.

It’s barely noon and Lucas is already exhausted. He had been up with his mom all night while his mom puked her guts out, sponging her forehead, wiping her mouth clean, and encouraging her to take sips of water between her endless bouts of nausea. When she finally felt well enough to rest, the sun was peeking through the curtains and Lucas had a house to take care of. 

He jerks awake to the front gate’s buzzer going off. He’s confused for a moment. He swears he had sat down only for a moment, persuaded the heaviness of his eyes, and then absolutely nothing. He rubs his face before hurrying to the intercom. 

“Yeah?” He’s too grumpy to deal with pleasantries.

“Hey, babe!”

He smiles immediately. Recently Eliott’s been the only reason for that. He unlocks the gate remotely and says, “Come on up.”

As soon as Eliott barges through the door Lucas is assailed with a massive hug like Eliott hasn’t seen him in weeks. Lucas giggles when he’s backed up against the foyer wall while Eliott makes over dramatic  _ mwah _ noises as he covers his face with kisses.

“Hi to you too," Lucas finally says when Eliott steps back.

“How are you?” His smile is as brilliant as his eyes. Lucas wants to take that same warm energy and wrap it around him like a blanket.

“Tired. But what's new?"

Eliott holds up several bags. There’s grease staining the bottom of the paper one. “You hungry? I got us lunch.”

They retreat to the kitchen and Eliott doles out the burgers and fries. Lucas is so ready to chow down on something new. The smell of anything else besides cereal and pasta turns his mom an alarming shade of green so Lucas doesn’t dare make anything else. The coffee he drinks with his lunch is a weird combination but Lucas swallows the stuff down like it’s water. It’s pretty much the only legal thing that keeps him awake at this point. Eliott cleans up when they’re done.

“How’s your mom doing?” 

“Fine now,” Lucas yawns as he relaxes on his bed next to Eliott. He doesn’t want to leave it for the rest of the day he decides impetuously. “Last night was rough."

"Was she sick again?” 

"Yeah but she made it.” He lays on his side, chin propped up in the palm of his hand, and just looks down at Eliott. His eyes are closed so Lucas feels free to look at his hot boyfriend all he wants. The bottom of his plain black tank has ridden up a little, exposing a sliver of taunt skin and a fine dusting of hair that runs down his belly. “She’s sleeping now.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he whispers before he leans down to kiss Eliott. He hums softly into the kiss much like a cat meowing after an unexpected touch, and drags his arms around Lucas's neck. 

“Is this your way of thanking me for lunch, Lallemant?”

“Maybe.” 

Lucas slips his hands under Eliott’s shirt, palming the smooth skin and slides his palms upward so he cant tease Eliott's nipples until they become hard little nubs. A full-body shiver runs through Eliott before he drags his shirt off. It's a little showy but damn it’s hot. Lucas leans toward to take a cheeky swipe at one nipple then the other before sucking them into his mouth one by one much to Eliott’s vocal delight. He can’t remember the last time they had a moment like this and he misses feeling so close with Eliott so he’s going to enjoy it while he can. 

Lucas makes himself comfortable in his lap, and sucks on his neck while Eliott moves restlessly underneath him. There’s a tempting bulge tenting the front of Eliott’s jeans. Lucas runs his fingers along the bulge until they stop at the button. He works it until it's unfastened and then yanks the zipper down. He tugs his jeans down a little - not off just out of the way - so he can ease Eliott’s cock out. He's big and thick in his hand, head red and wet even before Lucas leans down to taste him. 

“Jesus!" 

Eliott’s hands are rough in his hair, egging him on to take him deeper, as his hips shift helplessly beneath Lucas’s weight. When Lucas relaxes his jaw and takes him in so far that he can feel it in the back of his throat, Eliott’s hips snap up, hissing his pleasure. 

“...so good, Lucas. Lemme fuck your mouth?"

It's impossible to say no when Eliott's so far gone. They switch positions, clumsy from need. Lucas lays down with his head propped up the pillow and Eliott’s straddling his chest, jeans hastily shoved down his thighs. He smooths the pad of his thumb across Lucas's swollen lips before tugging the button one down.

"You're so beautiful, you know that?" His voice is soft but the heat in his gaze is anything but. Hand gripping his cock, his eyes watch Lucas tip his head back and deliberately open his mouth. Then Eliott’s hips roll . God, is he desperate. “ _ Ah _ ..shit…”

Holding Lucas exactly where he needs him, he fucks Lucas’s mouth. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, his brow wrinkles, and soft grunts make pleasure sizzle just beneath Lucas’s skin. It's quick and rough and he’s shooting his load after only a handful of uneven thrusts. Lucas gags when Eliott goes in too deep for a moment and swallows as quickly as he can, eyes tearing up, his own neglected cock straining against the thin fabric of his gym shorts. Eliott bows over him, breathing savagely when he finally slips his softening dick from Lucas’s rubbed raw mouth. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, baby.” 

Lucas licks his lips self consciously, still tasting Eliott. They feel hot and sore and he wonders how fucked he must look. "That good, huh?"

Eliott cradles his face, and kisses him gently. "The best."

Lucas blushes like he didn't just have his boyfriend's cock halfway down his throat. "I don't know about that."

"It definitely was," Eliott reiterates. “I have something else for you.”

The prospect of Eliott leaving the bed makes Lucas pout and lay back down, eyes drifting shut for a moment. Then there’s something under his nose, a familiar scent in his nostrils, and Lucas's eyes pop open. 

“Compliments of Sir Arthur,” he says cheekily.

“Bless him,” he says, taking hold of the blunt. It’s for his mom. Her appetite is practically nonexistent so he’s willing to try anything at this point to get her to eat something. But he doesn’t see the harm in taking a little hit off it himself. Arthur has been more than generous. Employing the use of Eliott’s lighter, he lights the end of the blunt and draws in a deep breath. 

Sex and weed. What a combination.

“Easy now, babe," Eliott says, amused.

Lucas hums, holds in the smoke as long as he can, before blowing it out towards Eliott. He passes Eliott the joint who just shakes his head. 

“It’s for you guys.”

“There’s more than enough for all three of us,” Lucas says and takes another hit because he’s a greedy bastard. 

Eliott rolls his eyes and leans down, putting his mouth over Lucas’s and breathing in when Lucas exhales a thick cloud of white smoke. “Happy now?"

"You make me sound like a deviant," Lucas says as he puts the blunt on an empty plate on the nightstand and crawls on top of Eliott, pushing him back onto the bed.

“You look like a deviant.” Eliott licks his lips, eyes drowsy as he watches Lucas slowly strip his shirt off. 

"Like what you're seeing?" Lucas grinds down, feeling Eliott's thickening cock rub against his ass. He rolls his hips back and forth.

"You know it.”

“I feel it,” Lucas purrs, leaning down to catch Eliott’s lips with his own. “You want me so much.” Eliott's hums in agreement, his hands gripping Lucas’s ass now. “But you’re just going to watch me come on your chest.”

“Jesus christ.” Lucas really is a deviant as he leans over him, panting so sweetly as he jerks off. Then Lucas straightens up, settling his weight on Eliott’s cock and moves against him hard. Eliott’s hands clench down on Lucas’s thighs, hard enough the skin turns red. Lucas picks up the pace, fucking his hand in completely abandonment. He’s so close. Just a couple more pulls...

“You’re so hot,” Eliott whispers. “Let me see you come, baby.”

That sends him over the edge and Lucas is painting stripes of liquid white up and down Eliott’s chest. He even gets a little on his chin. Lucas relaxes, gasping for breath and basking in the bond-melting pleasure coursing through his body, but Eliott’s not done. Lucas when he suddenly finds himself on his back and Eliott’s kissing him hungrily and reaching down between their bodies to touch himself. It only takes a few hurried pumps and Eliott's done for.

"God I've missed this, Lucas," he groans, hot breath fanning Lucas’s face. All the moaning and dryness of the smoke has turned his voice to a husky purr. 

"Cinderella doesn't have much free time lately," he jokes lamely.

"If you're Cinderella,” Eliott murmurs, a bright smile already tugging at his mouth, “does that make me Prince Charming?"

"Yeah. Yeah it does because you’re my happily ever after.”

They fall into a light sleep a little while later, bodies languid and limbs heavy, as the afternoon slowly ticks by. Lucas slowly wakes when he feels Eliott lips on his neck. There’s a hand slipping between Lucas’s legs to touch between his cheeks, fingers already slick. Lucas makes a sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan. 

Eliott eventually nudges him to roll over. Lucas has never wanted to be on his hand and knees more in his life. Then Eliott’s fucking him into the mattress. It’s all Lucas can do to keep his ass in the air, moaning into the pillow. Skin slapping slick skin and stuttered  _ ahs _ and muffled  _ fucks _ fill the warm humid air drifting in from the open windows. Eliott’s big, strong hands press bruises onto Lucas’s hips, his mouth places rows of kisses down the length of Lucas’s exposed back. Eyes shut against the outside world, Lucas’s universe shrinks down to just Eliott and the way he takes him, moves inside him, rubbing the spot that renders Lucas senseless until Lucas has no choice but to come, and then finally filling him with warmth that trickles down his legs when Eliott pulls out. If he could bottle up that tiny little universe he would. It would be a little retreat for Lucas when his world gets to be too much, too sad for him to handle.

By the time Eliott leaves for the evening - plans with Idriss he said - they look absolutely wrecked. Not even a shower helps. Eliott’s got hickeys running down his neck and Lucas’s gait is slow and careful. They part at the door with gentle kisses and quiet goodbyes before Lucas heads back to the living room where his mom rests. He leans against the doorway. She’s curled up on the couch in her bathroom and headscarf, watching a movie. Her eyes pale and glassy. He wonders if she’s even paying attention to what she's watching.

“Are you hungry, mom?” But he already knows the answer.

“No, honey.”

Lucas crosses the room and joins her on the couch, moving her feet aside so he can sit down on the couch and then drops her feet onto his lap. “Don’t be mad, mom, but I have an idea about what we can do to get your appetite back.”

“Lucas, don’t worry,” she sighs. There’s an irritated edge to her voice but it doesn’t hurt Lucas’s feelings. “The doctor said it's normal.”

“I know but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Don’t you miss eating?”

“Of course I do," she cries in frustration. "I’m going to have a big piece of chocolate cake when this is all over.”

Lucas grins at her and slips the blunt from his pocket. He holds it up. “Why wait?”

“What is that... _ Lucas _ ! Where did you get that?”

“That’s top secret information,” he says, putting the joint between his lips and lighting the end. The hit he takes is small, just enough to get the end burning, before he offers it to her.

She stares at him, big blue eyes incredulous. “I’m not smoking that.”

“What not? I won’t tell. Plus it’ll help with your appetite.”

“I can’t believe this. My own son wants me to get high so I get the munchies.”

“Yup. It’ll do you some good.”

She gives him a very disapproving look and then glances at the blunt. She purses her lips.

“Think of the chocolate cake, mom.”

“Fine.” She takes it, slips it between her lips, and inhales. Her coughing fit is minuscule and it makes Lucas just a tiny bit suspicious.

“You’ve done this before!”

She laughs, eyes twinkling, but doesn’t comment. 

Half an hour later they are giggling in the kitchen between a stack of chocolate bars and bags of potato chips Eliott had the forethought to bring along. Lucas’s stomach is full and his sides are aching too much but he can’t stop laughing. Neither can his mom.

They are so fucking baked.

“You are such a liar, mom,” he giggles. “There’s no way grandma and grandpa eloped in Marseille. You would’ve told me about this. There would’ve been photos!”

“You’re not listening, Lucas! I didn’t say anything about an elopement.”

Lucas gasps dramatically. He can’t help it. His entire world just shattered. “You mean they lied about it!”

“Oh yes. They ran off to Marseilles like the two young lovesick kids they were. They were down there for 5 or 6 months until your great grandpa found them. They were living in Grandpa Robert’s uncle’s summer villa while he had been away. It was quite a shock to find his daughter unwed and pregnant and living like some stowaway princess on a beach.”

“Oh my god!”

“Of course they were dragged back to Paris, forced to say they had eloped to avoid any scandal, and the family threw a huge reception for them. That’s why there are no photos and only a handful of people really knew the truth.”

“That’s fucking awesome. Why did you keep it from me?”

She shrugs and quietly says, “I didn’t think you’d find it interesting.”

The acknowledgment of their rocky relationship and the guilt that comes with it sobers Lucas immediately. He takes a mini chocolate bar, unwraps it and offers it to his mom which she accepts like a peace offering. “Well you thought wrong, ma’am.”

“It’s too bad they sold the villa.”

“Why don’t you sell this place, mom? You could move down south. Get in touch with your roots. Find a handsome movie star boyfriend. Live your best fucking life and get away from all this.”

“And leave you?” She cups his face and squeezes until his cheeks are smooshed. “I could never leave my baby even if I do find a handsome movie star boyfriend.”

“Mom, stop!” 

“That reminds me!” Her eyes are large and more alive than they have ever been since the start of chemo. The woman she used to be is shining though the sallow skin and sunken cheeks. “Did I ever tell you about the time I sold your grandma’s pearls?”

  
  


* * *

  
  


"Still sure about this, Eliott?"

"Yes."

Last chance to ditch the plan and run but neither of them looked particularly uncertain about tonight. Yann and Eliott are hanging back in the shadows, waiting for the street to quiet down before they cross it to the front gate of the apartment building.

"And Lucas doesn't suspect anything?"

"Nope."

Yann and Eliott decided to keep the identity of Lucas’s attacker between the two of them. Bring in the others and they would flock to Lucas and the last thing Eliott wants to happen is Lucas finding out he blabbed. He can’t risk that. Not when Lucas trusted him to keep quiet. Yann and Eliott scoped out the apartment area a couple of nights for a few minutes at a time. It’s big, posh, and makes Eliott want to throw caution to the wind, tract Victor down, and plant his fist in the bastard’s face right then and there. It's obvious the prick’s loaded yet thinks it’s ok for his wife and kid to struggle daily.

An older woman steps through the iron gate and Eliott cranks up the charm. She pauses, immediately starstruck, and holds the gate open for him. 

“Good evening, ma'am, thank you,” Eliott says softly and the woman smiles coyly at him. Sometimes it’s worth looking like a model because she doesn’t even think twice about why she’s holding the gate for a stranger or why he’s wearing all black in the dead of summer.

“That was way too smooth, man,” Yann mutters under his breath.

Eliott shrugs and they take the elevator up to the 5th floor and down the long hallway to their destination. Yann pounds on the door and they wait. A few minutes later they hear the door unlock from the other side. 

It happens quickly. Eliott forces the door open and shoves Victor Lallemant backwards until he's pinned against a wall. Yann slams the door shut as Eliott slams his fist into the man's face. There’s a sickening crunch. When Victor looks back at Eliott there's blood pouring from his nose.

"Wait...wait…"

Eliott hits him again and the man drops to the floor. Yann steps forwards and delivers a vicious kick to the man’s stomach so hard he cries out and curls in on himself. Eliott does it again and again, blinded by rage the creeps up on him like poisonous smoke. 

How dare this asshole live like this and ignore his wife and kid? How dare he even think about laying a hand on Lucas? 

Then Yann's dragging him away and yelling in his ear, “Eliott, you gotta stop! We gotta go!” 

Eliott doesn’t think he’s done enough damage and wants to push Yann away but Yann looks worried. Yann never looks worried so he must have a good reason too. 

“Fine,” he hisses. "Let’s get out of here.”

The man on the floor isn’t moving when they leave.


	6. all the young punks

It's the eleventh of July before Lucas knows it. All week he remembers with a sudden jolt that his birthday is coming up but the fleeting thought is forgotten just as quickly. All of his brain power is focused solely on the upkeep of the house and caring for his mom so when the clock strikes midnight it’s more than a little alarming to hear timid knocking on his bedroom door and a voice asking, "Are you awake, sweetheart?"

"Yeah," he says, closing his laptop quickly, ready to jump out of bed. His mom knows better than to come get him if she needs something. He told her over and over to text or call him no matter the time and he’ll be there. "Is everything ok?”

The door cracks open and his mom peeks in, smiling wide. This week’s treatment has been exceptionally rough and the face beneath her violet headscarf is sallow and thin. The light in her eyes however is unmistakable. 

"Happy birthday, my love," she says, stepping over the threshold so he can see the singular cupcake she holds.With a shock he realizes he almost for forgot his damn birthday. She sings to him softly as she crosses the room to sit beside him. "Make a wish."

Lucas is smiling from ear to ear, eyes watery. He knows what he wants in an instant.

_ Please let my mom make it through this. _

He takes a big breath and blows out the candle in one go. 

"I know we were joking before but I've been thinking this house is too big," his mom deliberates as they pick apart the cupcake. "I think I might actually sell it and get something smaller."

"Oh yeah?"

"Depending how much it sells for I want to help you get another apartment. I know you've been thinking of living with Eliott."

His heart suddenly feels too big for his chest but he tucks that feeling away for another time. "Don't worry about us, mom. Just focus on getting better and then we'll think about the house later, ok?"

* * *

  
  
  


The gang pretty much kidnaps him the following afternoon. They jump out of nowhere as soon as Lucas walks out of the front gate, mind focused solely on the grocery list, laughing maniacally and nearly giving Lucas a heart attack. 

"Happy birthday, Lulu!" Handfuls of multicolored confetti are thrown in the air. It gets in his hair and down his shirt but he's laughing as he pulls them all into one big hug. Text messages and instagram stories he’s been bombarded with all morning really don't hold a candle to the real thing.

"You should have seen your face!"

"Yeah well," Lucas snaps back. "You guys scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here?"

Arthur flings an arm around his shoulder. "We're holding you hostage for the day, man."

Lucas isn't so sure about that. Luckily the group seems to understand his hesitation. "Don't worry," Yann says. "We’ve already talked to your mom. She wants you to get out of the house for once."

"Seriously?" It's not that he doesn't believe. Nevermind it  _ is _ because he doesn't believe them.

"She's probably already locked the door by now."

Lucas looks at them like they’re morons. "I have a key."

"She took it, bro."

Lucas scoffs and takes out his keyring to inspect it. Like his mom would actually...There’s a key missing. 

Well shit. 

They whoop and holler as they stick a tacky party hat on his head (messing up his hair in the process) and drag him across town to Bois de Vincennes. If that isn’t enough they alternate between blowing kazoos like trumpets and telling everyone they see that it's his birthday. They’ve never celebrated with this much enthusiasm before. It’s embarrassing but damn if Lucas doesn't love these morons.

"I'm going to kill each and every one of you precious bastards," Lucas swears. His red-hot cheeks ache from the ear to ear smile he can't keep in check. God, it feels so good to smile, to have his heart feel so light after so many hard days. 

"At least wait until after the party, Lu," Basile suggests. “We put a lot of work into this!”

He can see a little group congregating in the shade of the old trees in the park, setting up tables and chairs. The abrasive sounds of The Clash playing is slightly at odds with the easy atmosphere. Lucas stares, mouth open, at all the girls gathered around and chatting excitedly in their party best. Then Eliott’s breaking away from the group, his smile as bright as the sun and kisses smack dab on his face. Lucas vaguely hears the boys make annoying kissing sounds around them but at the moment all he’s focused on is the face of his boyfriend above his own.

"Happy birthday, baby."

Lucas stares at him for the longest time, his throat unbelievably tight. He ought to be smiling now. It’s what everyone expects. His eyes are filling his tears instead and he has to hide his face for a moment or else he’s going to lose it in front of everyone. He doesn't know what happens to the boys but it's quiet all of a sudden like they are the only two in the world and Eliott's wrapping his arms around him, holding his tight and kissing his hair.

"You ok?"

Lucas doesn't think he can speak just yet so he nods a little.

"You deserve this, Lucas,” Eliott whispers gently. “You deserve this and so much more. I love you. We all love you."

Lucas sniffles and pulls back a little. “Now I feel even worse for forgetting your birthday.” That day had been spent at the infusion center and it wasn’t until later that evening when Lucas remembered what day it was. His first boyfriend and he goes and forgets him damn birthday. Lucas felt like trash but Eliott just brushed off his apology with a bright smile and said they’d celebrate after his mom got better.

“For the last time I don’t care, Lucas.” Eliott's thumbs the loose tears from Lucas’s cheeks gently and kisses him again. 

"I’m still sorry."

"Don't be an idiot."

"Pretty sure you're not supposed to call the birthday boy an idiot," Lucas pouts.

Eliott giggles and kisses his forehead. "You're adorable, you know that?"

"That's more like it."

"You ready to party?"

"Yeah," he says with a big sigh to rid himself of all the extra emotion whirling around in his chest. "Let's go."

The lively group pulls Lucas into their midst like they just hadn’t seen him break down. The girls clamor around him, wish him a happy birthday, and smother his face with countless kisses until his face is covered in lipstick and gloss and he smells faintly of their perfume. He really doesn't care though. After so many ugly months and even uglier emotions, Lucas finally feels like happiness is his once again.

There's food and drinks waiting for them orchestrated by Daphne, the party queen herself, and Yann baked his famous cake for the occasion. They sing him happy birthday at the top of their lungs before he's forced to blow out all seventeen candles. At least he gets the largest slice of the cake for his troubles. The presents come next and his stomach gives a lurch because he knows the boys probably got him a horribly embarrassing gag gift. But he's never been so glad to be proven wrong. 

The shove a gift bag into his hands, giggling and smiling, and Lucas is rightfully very very worried. He pulls back layers of tissue paper - more than what's necessary really and stares down at large, square folders. Vintage records. But at the very bottom is a very small bottle of baby oil.

“To remove paint from your skin,” Basile says brightly, waiting for everyone to get the joke.

“Man, I told you not to put it in there,” Arthur snaps, slapping him in the chest. “Now he thinks we’re just perverts.”

Basile looks outraged. “Of course he wouldn’t! Lucas, it’s just a joke. Because of the foyer! It helps remove paint!”

“Well it could have been helpful in the foyer too. For other reasons,” Eliott murmurs and Lucas elbows him in the stomach. Hard.

“Fine. Since we’ve sunk this low,” Yann says, shoving a box of condoms to Lucas’s chest. “Happy birthday, bro.”

Red-hot fire flares up in Lucas’s face. “Ok, ok, enough!” 

The girls present their presents next. Booze, booze, and more booze. He really ought to fix his image with them. 

Finally Eliott sneaks him his own present when the large group dissolves into smaller ones. Lucas opens it eagerly and finds a cute little hedgehog plush tucked safely inside. Eliott giggles, blushing and its adorable. "It's not very cool but I thought it was cute. There’s more." After little more digging Lucas finds a book of sheet music.

He leans over and gives Eliott a gentle kiss. "Is this your subtle way of telling me you want me to play some more?"

"Maybe later back at my place?"

Lucas smiles and kisses him again. The promise he hears in Eliott's voice makes him all warm inside. He wiggles his eyebrows. "Maybe."

The party goes on and on. Towards the end of the evening, Lucas can't help but steal glances at his phone every once and a while to make sure he hasn't missed a text or a call from his mom. Luckily she seems to be doing ok on her own. The party has to come to an end when they're unceremoniously kicked out of the park for being too loud and too drunk. Lucas definitely has a nice buzz carrying him back to Eliott's apartment and it makes him really handsy. 

"Will you stop for one minute?" Eliott asks, taking Lucas hand off his ass for the last time and keeping it tucked in his own. 

"No," Lucas giggles. "It's your fault for wearing such tight jeans. Your butt's soooo nice."

"Thanks, babe."

"Hey, Eliott?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't think I can play the piano for you tonight."

"That’s ok. Do you want to go to bed?"

"Nope. But it does involve your bed."

Eliott looks like he's deep in thought. His lips purse and his eyes look upward before his face lights up. "You want to make a blanket fort!"

Lucas pouts because he's just not getting it. He stops, grabs Eliott by his shirt and wheels him around so they are face to face. He slowly presses himself up against his boyfriend's tall and lanky form, fingering the waistband of his jeans, hoping he looks as sexy and confident as he feels. "I want to push you down on your bed and give you the best blow job ever." He sees Eliott swallow hard because his hand is sliding south. "And then..."

"And then?” He’s grinning, eyes twinkling. “There's more?" 

" _ And then _ ," Lucas stresses because he doesn't like to be interrupted, "you'll get on her hands and knees and let me fuck you, kay?"

"Whatever you want, baby." His eyes have turned dark and intense. Lucas is such a slut for that smoldering look.

God, he wants him so badly. It's a good thing they are so close to Eliott's apartment because the thought of waiting makes him want to die. But there's movement behind Eliott, in front of his apartment building, and two officers are making their way over to them.

Eliott notices Lucas is looking over his shoulder and turns around.

"Eliott Demaury?"

"Yeah?" Eliott's nervous and confused. Lucas doesn't like that one bit. They weren't bothering anyone. "We’d like you to come with us."

He doesn’t move except to stand a little taller. "For what?"

"For the assault of Victor Lallemant."

* * *

  
  
  


Eliott's booked for the night. With nothing to do and no phone to distract him, he has a lot of time to sit around in the cell and be in his feelings. He’s not pissed he got caught. He’s pissed he got caught in front of Lucas. And he has no way of letting him know everything’s ok. That part blows and of course the cops don’t give a rat’s ass if Eliott’s boyfriend is worried. At the end of a very long, sleepless stint behind bars with two other guys it's over when an older cop unlocks the cell, jerks the gate open, and grunts, "Dad's here, Demaury. Time to go."

"Thanks, Paul," he mutters dryly. He's been behind these bars before and it's always the same guy on guard duty - a haggard man with a big belly and a bigger mustache. This time however Eliott's not here because his meds failed.

Paul walks him to the front of the station, looking as dour as ever. "You're out on bail so try to stay out of trouble, kid, all right? You're bright and young. You can't be throwing your life away."

Eliott cracks a smile. He doesn’t want a nice guy like Paul worrying about him. "What if I told you I had a good reason?"

Paul isn’t impressed. "Sometimes there's good reasons and sometimes there's bad reasons, kid. I've heard them all,” he says. “You meet with the judge later and have 'em figure out what to do with you."

"Can’t wait." His dad's waiting for him in the foyer, pale and unshaven and quiet with anger. Fuck. Why couldn't his mom be the one to pick him up? Unlike his mom who would ask questions and try to understand, his dad only sees the world in black and white and ignores the grey. And Eliott’s most definaltely wallowing in the grey this time.

"I don't want to see you back here again, Demaury. Got it?"

Eliott takes back his keys, wallet, and cell phone and gives Paul a promise that he'll keep his nose clean. While his dad signs some papers Eliott inspects his phone and finds the battery dead. Everything inside him tells him he needs to talk with Lucas. To tell him he’s ok. That there’s nothing to worry about. That he can explain everything. His heart hurt just thinking about the look of wide-eyed helplessness on Lucas's face last night. 

Eliott follows his dad out of the station and to their car. His dad's stoicism continues as he grips the steering wheel and Eliott watches the rush hour traffic as he stares blankly out the window. He’s so tired. He’s going to sleep for a whole week once this shit is all over with.

"Are you taking your meds?"

"What the fuck? Yeah, dad, I am."

"You're going to stay with us. Permanently. Letting you live alone was a mistake." 

Eliott’s head rolls to the other side so he can look at his dad, letting the words sink in.

"And you're not allowed to see Lucas anymore."

It’s like a punch to the gut. "What the fuck? Why?"

His dad gives him a sardonic glare. "Because he's nothing but trouble." His dad isn't a bastard. He  _ isn't _ . This is just a hard situation, Eliott tells himself but it still hurts. It hurts to have a man he admires whittle the love of his life down to a singular word. Trouble. 

"I'm not breaking up with him."

"What makes you think he'll want to be with you knowing you attacked his father?" 

"Because his dad's the one who hit him!"

His dad's shocked into silence. "The point still stands,” he carefully responds, white knuckling the steering wheel. Eliott honestly cannot believe the words coming out of his mouth. “Ever since you met him things haven't been easy for you. You stopped taking your meds. You skipped school. You had an episode-"

"That's total bullshit, dad! People can't fucking trigger a fucking episode."

"You were better off with Lucille,” he insists. “She was a better fit for you."

Eliott covers his face in his hands. He’s not in the right headspace to deal with this bullshit argument. His dad doesn't know Lucas. His dad doesn't know anything about him. If he did then he would not be spewing such idiotic ideas. 

"Is that how mom feels too?"

His dad doesn't reply so Eliott fumes in silence and stares out the window.

They park in front of their house, a place he hasn't lived at for over a year. Eliott climbs out. It would be so easy to turn his back and take off. Instead he shoves his hands in his pockets and follows his dad inside, frowning and unhappy. The place is quiet since his mom’s at work. They manage to be civil long enough to have a quick breakfast in the kitchen. His dad lets him borrow a phone charger. He's in his old bedroom, waiting for his phone to get a decent charge before he can turn it on to call Lucas. 

It goes straight to voicemail. 

_ Fuck fuck fuck _

Eliott tosses his phone on the bed and then joins it, staring listlessly up at the ceiling covered with glow in the dark stars for a few moments before his eyes grow heavy. When he wakes up, he keeps to himself. He takes a long shower, changes into something his dad left for him on the bed, and skips lunch. He tries to get a hold of Lucas again but doesn't have any luck. He chews on his nails. His stomach is unpleasantly sour like he’s going to be sick. He decides sending a text might make him feel better if he knows Lucas isn’t mad at him.

  
  
  


Eliott passes the time waiting for a response by intermittently watching movies and napping. Later that afternoon there's a knock on his bedroom door and still no word from Lucas.

"Yeah?" He’s really not in the mood for a second round with his dad. He’s still bruised from their first go.

The door swings open and his mom stands in the doorway with an impassive expression. Her tall, willowy form is still dressed in her elegant work clothes. "Hey."

"Are you going to ask me to break up with my boyfriend too?"

"No. Why?"

"Dad wants me too."

It's not every day his mom lets her cool demeanor falter but on this occasion she does roll her eyes. "No, Eliott, I'm not going to ask you to break up with Lucas,” she says wearily, sitting down next to him. “I just wish you'd stop acting so stupid."

"The asshole had it coming, mom," Eliott fires back. "Lucas wasn't going to go to the police." One little hairline fracture and he’s cracking. Big hot tears fill his eyes. His throat clamps shut like it's been caught in a wench because it hurts to be able to finally talk about this. "Mom, you should have seen him afterwards. It was terrible!"

He collapses into her hug and gives way to his tears. All his emotions pour out, seeking space and air because it’s been too crowded inside Eliott for too long. The pain when he saw Lucas's bruised face and then his helpless anger when he learned the truth. Lucas didn't deserve that and it was all Eliott's fault. If he hadn’t put the thought of them living together in Lucas’s mind none of this would have happened.

"I had to do something. Lucas didn’t want to go to the police. His dad was going to get away with it. What was I supposed to do?"

"My sweet boy." His mom tucks his head under her chin, tenderly rubbing her hands over his back. "You should have come to us, Eliott."

"Lucas didn’t want anyone else to know."

"I know, sweetheart, but sometimes you got to trust us. It's hard to know what the right thing to do is when someone you love is hurting. I talked to Lucas's mom. She told Lucas’s dad she'd testify about the abuse if he presses charges against you."

"Really?"

"I think we owe her dinner, don't you?"

Eliott smiles weakly.

"Also Lallemant told the police there was another person with you that night."

Eliott hesitates. "There was.”

"The police have no clue who it could be since Lallemant isn’t talking anymore there probably won't be an extensive investigation now."

"So keep my mouth shut, right?"

"Yes. The property manager will still try to get you for trespassing on private property though."

"Ok," he mutters, wondering if that would be enough to land him in jail. But he stuffs that thought away. He knew what he was getting himself into the day he decided to go after Lallemant. He's just glad Yann’s identity hasn’t been discovered.

His mom looks at him long and hard before she asks, "How's Lucas doing?"

"I don't know. We haven't talked."

"Don't worry, Eliott. He has a lot to think about. What do you think about having dinner with us tonight?”

“I'm not really hungry.” That’s a lie. He just doesn't want to be around his dad right now.

“Then can I stay and watch a movie?”

“Sure. What did you have in mind?”

“I’ve a copy of the Lord of the Rings.”

Eliott smiles faintly. “You’re such a nerd, mom.”


	7. you really got me

Lucas nurses a cup of black coffee early the next morning. There's a marching band in his head and his stomach is a sour stew of nerves and nausea. A sleepless night only exacerbates his uncontrolled anxiety and there’s no way his battered brain can think rationally right now. 

He hardly remembers getting home, carrying his birthday gifts and too drunk to process what happened. He just knew it was bad. Very fucking bad. Eliott looked like he was trying to find the words to explain but the officers were already taking him to their car. Then he was gone and Lucas was left alone with nothing but questions and a vision of what could have been. 

It’s mind blowing how quickly the world can change in a matter of a few ephemeral moments.

His phone is on the table in front of him. Not that it’ll do any good. He’s been in touch with Yann, letting him know what had happened in a fit of panic but nothing Yann said calmed him down, and all the texts to Eliott have gone unanswered. He tells himself this is normal. Perfectly normal. 

Hours later the the officer’s words keep whirling in Lucas's mind involuntarily. With time and strong coffee last night’s fog lifts. He can’t imagine Eliott doing something like that - assaulting his dad- but if it’s true Lucas isn't too upset about his dad getting his ass kicked. But he  _ ought _ to and that’s the problem. Eliott’s in a lot of trouble because of him. He's pissed at himself for not reporting it. Let the police deal with his dad instead of letting Eliott bear the burden. 

“Honey?”

“Yeah, mom?” He rubs his face quickly as if his hands can scrub away the dark circles under his eyes and the worry lines. He forces his voice to be lighter like there’s nothing weighing him down. “Did you need something?”

She sits down next to him with her own mug of coffee, looking completely unimpressed. “Tell me what’s wrong, Lucas.”

The very first instinct he has is to lie. He’s a master of spinning falsehoods, creating stories out of thin air to cover his ass, but he’s so tired. All he has is the truth and he hesitates. There are so many reasons to lie but as he opens his mouth to fumble some half ass falsehood, he gives up. “I think…I think Eliott went after dad.”

He doesn’t know what kind of reaction he’s expecting from his mom. He watches her brows wrinkle delicately; the corners of her mouth curl down. “What?”

“There were a couple of cops waiting for him at his place after the party. They said they needed to talk about him assaulting dad or wherever, and I haven’t heard anything else,” Lucas rushed out. 

His mom covers her mouth with a shaky hand, her sunken eyes round with shock. “Surely they’ve made a mistake, Lucas. Eliott wouldn’t do that...would he?”

“I don’t know. Maybe?” Eliott can get intense sometimes and he looked guilty when he saw the police but he never thought maybe the cops had made a mistake because it’s too much of a coincidence that his dad end’s up being assaulted. “Mom, what should I do? If it’s true then it’s my fault for dragging Eliott into all of this. If he did it, then he did it for me. Because I couldn’t fight back and I was too chicken to go to the cops. And, I don’t know, mom, it’s kinda cool?”

“Eliott’s a good person,” his mom says gently. “Right or wrong, he did it because he loves you.” She presses a kiss to his forehead. “Don’t worry, Lucas. I’m going to call Victor."

"Mom, wait-"

"I won’t let him get away with this.”

Lucas watches her leave. She’s never seen his mom show such backbone. He likes it. On the table his own phone starts to vibrate. Eliott’s name lights up the screen.

Lucas stares down at it, embarrassed to admit he doesn’t know what to say if he picks up. Thank you for kicking my dad’s ass? That sounds a little irresponsible given how much shit Eliott might be in right now. So he lets it ring and ring, hoping to buy some time to get his thoughts in order.

* * *

  
  
  


Lucas still doesn't know how to feel about this mess but it’s getting late and he needs to talk with Eliott sooner rather than later. There’s just too much they need to say that a phone call seems inadequate. So he stands at Eliott’s apartment door and knocks. And knocks some more a little louder this time. Nothing. Lucas shifts from one foot to the other before pulling out his phone. 

  
  
  
  


He sets out on foot again once he gets the address from Eliott. He’s still not sure what to say or how to act even though he's had hours to rehearse. The reception he gets at Eliott’s parents house is underwhelming to say the least. Julien Demaury answers the door and immediately looks a little cagey when he sees who’s calling.

“I’m sorry, Lucas, but Eliott’s not feeling well right now.”

Lucas knows all the signs of someone not wanting his around but he doesn’t call him out on his bullshit. He smiles, trying not to take it personally, and mutters something polite before backing off. He ducks around the corner, out of view, and takes out his phone.

  
  
  


It’s a good thing there’s a little undergrowth for Lucas to hide in as he fumbles down the side of the house because this is definitely trespasser activity. It's dark in the back but up on the first floor he spies the long, lean outline of Eliott out on an iron balcony.

_ This is some straight up Romeo and Juliet shit. _

"Hey, trouble."

“Lucas!” 

Lucas jerks his thumb over his shoulder. "So what was that about?"

"Nothing. He's being stupid." Then he’s reaching down for something and tossing it over the balcony. 

“The fuck is that?”

“Climb up.”

He trusts Eliott. He really does but climbing up a homemade rope of blankets is undoubtedly the second dumbest idea Eliott's beautiful mind has ever concocted. “Are you out of your fucking mind? I’ll break my neck!”

“I’ve done it hundreds of times, Lucas,” Eliott replies airily. “It’s totally safe.” Lucas doesn’t move. “Ok, ok. Put your foot through the loop on the end and hold on. I’ll pull you up, you big baby.”

Oh my god, he thinks. This isn’t happening. And then it is and Eliott pulls him in for a long awaited hug even before Lucas is completely over the iron railing.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you earlier,” Lucas blurts out, pulling back so Eliott can see the sincerity in his eyes. “I didn’t know what I should say.”

Eliott shuffles nervously. “Well what did you  _ want  _ to say?” 

Lucas hates how worried Eliott looks so he lets a lopsided grin tug at his mouth. Fuck it. “That if you really did beat up my dad it was fucking cool.”

“The asshole deserved it.”

Lucas’s hands fly up to his face and he’s staring at his boyfriend over the tips of his fingers. "Oh my god! You really did it!"

"Yup." Eliott really shouldn’t be looking that pleased. 

"Yeah well you shouldn't have done it though,” Lucas says because one of them has to be responsible. “I should have gone to the police though and let them handle it. Still, um, thank you?” 

“Anytime.”

“Are you in a lot of trouble?” That’s the question he wanted to ask the most but was too afraid to. 

“I don’t know. It doesn't sound like your dad's going to press charges. I just have to meet up with a judge next week and see what happens next.”

Anxiety twists his stomach so hard he feels it in his throat. “Do you think you’ll have to go to jail or something?”

Eliott shrugs. “Hopefully not.”

“Jesus.” He’s never been in trouble like this and has no idea what could happen to Eliott. He’s 19. He'll get judged like an adult and then what? Jail? What about uni? He had been so excited to be accepted into the film school. What if Lucas ruined that? Lucas’s head suddenly feels too crowded. “How are you so calm?”

"I’ve been through this before. After the first time it gets a little boring.”

"But what about uni…"

Eliott grabs him by his shoulders and stoops to look him in the eye. "Lucas, don't worry!"

“Seriously?"

Eliott has the gall to giggle. Lucas just shakes his head and let’s his boyfriend’s contagious smile spread. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

“You sure?" Lucas hesitates, caught between wanting to stay with him and not wanting to get in deeper shit with Eliott’s parents. "I don’t want you to get in any more trouble.”

“Then be quiet.”

Lucas has never been quiet in his entire life but he’s willing to make an exception. The room's small and stiflingly hot despite the windows thrown open in an attempt to coax the nonexistent summer breeze in. There's a little fan blowing but isn’t much help. They end up on the bed.

“How long are you staying here?” The room’s pretty empty like it hasn’t been used in some time but there are little hints of Eliott here and there for Lucas to find like Easter eggs. Some doodles on the walls. Records stacked in the corner. An old tv playing an even older movie.

“Don't know,” Eliott admits softly, lighting a cigarette. He lays down on the bed, hands behind his head, looking as untroubled as ever.“Dad’s talking about having me move back but mom doesn’t agree so who knows?”

Lucas frowns. “That sucks.”

Eliott takes a long drag of his cigarette before handing it off. “It’s whatever."

"Mom's thinking about selling the house to get a smaller place,” Lucas pipes in. He puts the cigarette between his lips and inhales, hoping the nicotine kicks in quickly immediately because he feels as tense as a guitar string. “If it sells, she might help me get a place of my own. We can move in together if your parents are ok with that."

"Yeah?"

“And...and I think I’m going to talk with my dad," Lucas says quietly.

A frown wrinkles Eliott’s forehead. “You think that's a good idea?”

Lucas shrugs. “I don’t want to keep running anymore and I've got things I need to say to him. I just don't want to go alone, you know?"

“Do you want me to come with you?”

"You're joking, right?"

"Ok, fine. What about your mom?"

"I don't want her to have to see him."

Eliott's quiet as he thinks, sucking on the cigarette Lucas handed back to him. Lucas watches him, studying the lean muscles of his arms and the sharp points of his hip bones like they're works of art. “What about my mom? She's pretty intimidating when she needs to be.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He likes Flavie a lot but, yes, with a face as modelish like her son’s and a personality like a bulldog she can be a little intimidating. "If she doesn't mind."

“Just let me know and we can talk with her.”

“I will.”

“Great. So are you going to join me down here or are you just going to stare me down all night?”

Lucas feels his face redden. So much for being sneaky. "What if I just want to stare?" He teases because he needs to combat the intensity in Eliott’s stare with some lighthearted humor. It's just too much. "You're pretty cute.”

“What about doing something besides stare?” Eliott's eyes slip down to where Lucas's biting his lower lip.

Lucas's words are carried on a shy whisper. “What if they hear us?”

Eliott sits up, crowds into Lucas’s space so he's a little breathless from being on the receiving end of such an intense gaze. Lucas can smell smoke on his breath as he stares at his lips, transfixed, mind already envisioning them naked on the bed in this small, hot room. 

"Then be quiet.”

The cigarette is stubbed out and put aside. The volume on the TV's turned up. They’re lying together, chest to chest, legs intertwined, and they kiss. And kiss and kiss with desperate, roaming hands, muffled sighs that evaporate in the warm air, and Eliott solid weight pressing against him. 

Eliott seems to sense how much Lucas needs to be cared for and takes it slow. Lucas melts into the mattress as pliable as playdoh. Time stops. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. Lucas doesn't keep track because Eliott, taking his sweet time with Lucas, isn't in a hurry to get to the finish line tonight. Lucas feels like he's caught up in a dream. He doesn't want to wake up.

"Eliott,” he breathes quietly, tugging on his shirt. Eliott pulls back, weight braced on his forearms, eyes dark and hooded. "I want you." Lucas knows he’s probably asking for the improbable but he can’t wait to be naked and touched and soothed by Eliott until there's no space in his mind for a single worry or bad thought to fester.

“I don’t have anything…” Then Eliott kisses him quickly and fiercely before hopping off the bed in one leap and headsing to the door. “I'll be right back.”

Lucas just flops back down on Eliott's bed, letting the sounds of the tv wash over him, and blows out his cheeks. When Eliott comes back he's smiling and shaking a condom and a tube of lubricant for Lucas to see. Heat flares up in Lucas’s cheeks. Some kids raid their parents’s liquor cabinet. Eliott raids his parents’s bathroom so he can have sex with his boyfriend. 

Eliott crawls into the bed, condom and lube put aside for now, and helps Lucas out of his shirt. The rush of summer air cools the sweat slicking Lucas's skin. Eliott eases his way down to kiss Lucas's neck with the same avid adoration that made Lucas's lips red and worn. Pleasure churns down low in Lucas's belly and as much as he wants Eliott’s hand on his cock he doesn't want to rush anything. So he closes his eyes and basks in all the feel-good emotions wrecking his body in the best possible way.

He's breathless by the time his jeans and boxers are stripped off. He feels Eliott's hand slip down his belly, fingers wet with lube. Lucas's teeth clamp down on his bottom lips to muffle an eager moan when Eliott fists his cock, gently thumbing the wet tip. Lucas's hips roll up into the touch, soft moans slipping past his lips, eyes shut against the outside world. Kisses pepper his chest, his nipples, then his belly, all the way down until Eliott's mouth replaces his hand and sucks him.

Lucas tries to keep quiet. He really does but he's failing miserably especially when he feels Eliott stroke between his cheeks, easing the tip of his finger inside ever so gently. Eliott works him over slowly. He's overwrought, ready for release, and his body is loose and relaxed by the time Eliott's finished with him. A change in the angle of his fingers sends pleasure cascading over Lucas and for a moment he can't breath. Eliott does it over and over until Lucas feels like he’s going to dive nose first over a precipice. He grips the bedsheets for purchase.

"Eliott, baby, s-slow down. I'm going to come."

Eliott sits up and unzips his jeans and slips his own cock free, making a show of pumping himself for Lucas's enjoyment while Lucas bites his lower lip and watches with hooded eyes. It's overwhelming how much Lucas wants to feel that thick cock inside him, but he wants more than to be sated by a lusty fuck.

They're kissing again while Eliott rolls the condom on. Lucas wraps his slim legs around Eliott's waist, mind off somewhere on cloud nine.

"I love you, baby," Eliott whispers against his mouth.

"Love you too."

The first shallow thrusts are gentle. But it feels good. It feels so good to finally do this after so many long nights and stressful days. Lucas closes his eyes and lets Eliott fuck into him gently, over and over, their muffled moans quietly filling the room.

"Fuck," Eliott groans softly, voice catching in his throat. His hips snap forward and he goes in deeper than usual. Lucas gasps, back arching towards the ceiling. A few more like that and he'll be done for. “You feel so good, baby.”

He hitches his legs up higher, knees nearly to Eliott's shoulders, and Eliott gets the hint. Hands on the back of Lucas's thighs encourages them further up as they make love. And Lucas lays back and lets himself feel nothing but the pleasure Eliott gives him as he edges deeper in. A few more thrusts with his hand pumping his swollen cock Lucas comes quickly, shooting all over his belly. He's practically limp while Eliott continues to move until he can't take it anymore and comes.

They’re genuinely exhausted out by the time they collapse, sated and boneless, onto the mattress. Both are breathless and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Hair a mess. Bodies unapologetic ally marked. Lucas closes his eyes, enjoying his post coital buzz and the fresh summer air flowing in from the window.

"You know I'd do anything in the world to protect you, right, Lucas?" Eliott's voice is so sad, so broken that Lucas has to look at him, really look at him to see the sobering change that's come over Eliott.

"I know," he replies softly. Eliott's eyes are dark, intense, and there's a piece of Lucas that becomes overwhelmed by the expression. He cups Eliott’s face in his hands gently. "I know, baby," he says again as if to ground Eliott. "Come here."

Lucas pulls Eliott to him so he can curl up into his side, head braced upon his chest. Lucas presses a kiss into his hair, holds on tight, and gradually feels the tension ease from Eliott's body. Caught up in his own troubles Lucas didn't even stop to think how Eliott must have felt. He probably felt a lot like Lucas during the last month- upset, scared, maybe a little lonely - and yet he never complained. Now Lucas wants nothing more than to give as much comfort to his boyfriend as he can. 

“I love you, Eliott. So much.”

Eliott presses a kiss onto his chest. “I love you too. Can you imagine what it'd be like if we lived together?" 

"Every day," Lucas answers honestly. Sometimes its the only thing that gets him through the day even if it's an impossible dream "We wouldn't have to sneak around if we wanted to fuck."

"Not just that either," Eliott murmurs with a smile in his voice. His fingers trace little circles on Lucas's stomach. Lucas's eyes drift shut to the sound of the gentle voice humming in his ears. "Like  _ really _ living together. Making dinner and watching our favorite movies every night. Falling asleep in each other's arms. Being the first thing we see in the morning."

Lucas smiles sleepily. "Fighting when one of us doesn't wash the dishes."

"I'm trying to be romantic."

"A chore wheel is peak romantice."

"We can get a Saturday routine," Eliott continues, glee clinging to every word. "Like you'd make coffee and I'll go get us pastries. And after we finish breakfast we can go to a museum or a park somewhere. Feed ducks."

"Feed ducks?"

"Well yeah."

"Park ducks or museum ducks?"

"Park ducks obviously. Museums have swans."

"That's pretty classy of them."

Eliott giggles. Lucas adores that sound. "Then Saturday night we can curl up and watch movies."

Lucas smiles to himself, letting himself bask in the dream. That would be nice.

  
  



	8. the kids are alright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are familiar with the French legal system I am sorry for the inaccuracies in this chapter. English sources concerning French laws are hard to come by so I took a few liberties.

Flavie Demaury’s dressed for a battle. When he sees her sitting with his mom on the sofa dressed in a dark red pants suit and heels so tall they could be lethal, he knows she’s the right woman for the job. They are talking in low tones in the parlor, two opposing extremes, when Lucas joins them - his mom in a well loved bathrobe and polyester headscarf and Flavie in her bespoke suit and gold earrings. He doesn't want to admit he had taken his time coming down because he’d been sick in the toilet for the past half an hour. But seeing how determined Flavie looks behind her perfect makeup makes him feel a bit stronger, safer.

There's a softness that comes over Flavie’s face that reminds him fiercely of Eliott when she looks at him. "Are you ready, Lucas?"

"Yeah." But his voice is shaky and his heart is trembling. 

Fuck. He's really doing this, isn’t he?

He kisses his mom goodbye and she tells him to be brave. Flavie has her arm wrapped around his shoulders as they leave. They don't talk on the way to the coffee shop and Lucas appreciates that because he’s not in the mood to make small talk. They already have a game plan that Lucas runs over and over in his head so he doesn't fuck it up. 

They pause in front of the shop. Lucas is too scared to peek through the windows, settling for looking down at the cobbled sidewalk instead. He knows his dad is already waiting inside. Waiting for him. Suddenly Lucas’s throat clamps shut and he can’t swallow.

Flavie puts her hands on his shoulders, squeezes gently, and looks him straight in the eye. "You know you don't have to do this, Lucas.”

"I know," he says heavily, "but I need too."

"Are you sure you don't want me to sit with you?"

"Yeah. Just keep an eye on us."

Flavie nods, turns on her sharp heels, and marches inside. Lucas follows a beat later, wishing he could dredge up at least a smidgen of her confidence. It’s crowded inside but the sounds are subdued. Like most coffee shops it's filled with patrons preoccupied with their laptops or books, lost in their own little worlds. Lucas immediately sees his dad and his stomach churns again but sitting behind their table is Flavie so he squares his shoulders and walks forward.

His dad looks different. Pale and stricken as if he hadn’t been sleeping well for months. There are seemingly innumerable apologies on his face as he stares at his son with damp eyes. "Lucas," he breathes softly as if surprised to see Lucas at all. "Thank you for calling."

He nods and sits down stiffly, words caught in his throat.

"I ordered you something."

Lucas looks down at his lap, quiet as a church mouse. He doesn't think he can look at his dad. 

"How's your mom?"

There's a snarky response of  _ why don't you ask her yourself  _ on the tip of his tongue but he swallows it. He's pretty sure she wouldn't answer if he called anyway. "She's doing her best," he says instead. "Some days she's too weak to leave her bed. Other days it's like this just a bad dream. We're getting by. We’ve been getting the money you send." 

"Good. It's the least I could do."

The waitress comes with their drinks. Lucas considers the cup for a moment before pushing it away. His stomach feels as rocky as the sea during a storm. "Thanks but I'm ok." 

Silence descends again as they wait for the waitress to leave. 

"I'm so sorry, Lucas. I'm sorry you're going through this alone. I wish I could be there for you. I really do."

"I'm not alone. I have Eliott."

His dad nods. "Of course you do."

"He doesn't leave when things get hard."

"He's a better man than I am."

Lucas glances at Flavie. Her hard eyes are staring daggers at the back of his dad's head. "He is."

"And I suppose that woman is…"

"Eliott's mom. I didn't want to come alone."

A look of shame comes over his dad's face. "I wanted to let you know that I've started seeing a therapist, Lucas, and I'm seeing a group for alcoholics," his dad continues softly. He too is looking down at the tabletop, too raw to look at his son. "I don't...I don't ever want what happened between us to happen again. Ever. I'm sorry, Lucas.” His dad’s voice cracks. "I'm sorry from the bottom of my heart."

Lucas nods stiffly. His throats closing up too. He starts to think of an exit plan because he does not want his dad to see him cry.

"I don’t expect you to forgive me," he continues after a moment. "I won't ever ask you to forgive me. I just wanted to let you know how much I regret hitting you and for being such a terrible father. And if you are still thinking about living it Eliott I would like to make that happen."

Lucas licks his lips. "I don't know. I don't want to make a decision until after mom gets better."

"I understand but don't forget the offer will always be on the table."

"I won't. Listen, I need to go."

His dad nods, clearly biting back words. “Take...Take care of yourself, Lucas, ok?"

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Eliott’s hands are itching to tug his tie loose. He hates wearing ties as much as he hates how the judge studies at him over the rim of her glasses, lips pursed, like she's trying to see inside him. He stands up straight and schools his face into an expression of remorse. He's not sure what's going to happen since Lallemant isn't pressing charges so his fate rests in the hands of a woman he doesn't know.

"You've got a substantial record, Mr Demaury," she starts.

Not a good way to start things. He knows he's not a bad person. A lot of the shit he did in the past was caused by something out of his control before he was put on meds but would she care?

"Thief, vandalism, breaking and entering, and now trespassing and the alleged assault of Victor Lallemant who has recently recanted his story," she continues, leafing through the folder on her desk. "How do you plead?"

"No contest, ma'am."

She looks at him sternly, thin lips pinched tight again. "I'm afraid you're starting off adulthood on the wrong foot. Could you tell me what compels you to continue to act out? I see your parents behind you, Mr Demaury. Surely it's not a testament to their lack of parenting skills."

"No, ma'am, it's not," Eliott says, trying his best to keep from losing his cool. "I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder when I was 15 so not having proper treatment caused me to do things I wouldn't do normally."

"But you're 19 now, Mr Demaury, and your file says you are taking medications for your disorder as well as routinely seeing a psychiatrist. So explain to me why you're standing here pleading no contest for trespassing on private property and an alleged assault."

Eliott licks his lips. He hates what he's about to say next. It feels like a cheap cop especially since it means Victor Lallement is basically getting off the hook. But they all agreed this was the way to go. "Sometimes my meds don't work like they are supposed to, ma'am."

"You didn't skip a dose, correct? Being on a lifelong regiment can get old after a while and I've seen many people stop taking their medications because of it."

"I didn't skip my meds, ma'am. I'm attending film school in the fall and I would never intentionally do anything that would jeopardize that."

The judge nods her head, looking a little less harsh. "Yes. I see you’ve recently graduated with high honors. I must congratulate you on that, Mr Demaury. These last couple of years haven't been easy for you.”

"Thank you, ma'am."

"We all need a support system and plans to keep our lives in order." Her eyes flicker past him to look at his parents. "I believe you have the right kind. So I want you to visit with your doctor if you haven't already done so and talk about adjusting your medications so something like this doesn't happen again. You will also do 80 hours of community service and will be fined €500. Does that seem fair?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Take care, Mr Demaury," she says as she snaps his file closed. "I don't want to see you back here again."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Lucas waits outside the courthouse, a complete and utter nervous wreck. If Eliott ends up in jail because of him he’ll never forgive himself. He distracts himself with his phone and when that isn't enough he walks up and down the sidewalk to get rid of the nerves buzzing just under his skin. Eventually it’s over and he sees Eliott step out with his parents. Lucas hesitates. As much as his heart is telling him to rush to Eliott, he doesn't want to make things awkward with Julien. The way he had turned Lucas away the other night is still fresh in his mind.

Eliott sees him and rushes over anyway, looking a lot older in his gray suit and combed hair. He cups Lucas’s face and kisses him in lieu of a greeting. Lucas stumbles backwards and Eliott follows, giggling against his lips.

Lucas chances a timid smile, feeling the first few tendrils of hope course throughout his body. "So I take it things went ok?"

"Yes." On second thought Eliott gives a little shrug. "I mean you're going to see less of me but-"

Lucas's heart stops. "Jail?"

"What?  _ No _ ! Community service." Eliott has the gall to giggle at Lucas’s expression. "Plus I need a job to pay back my parents for the bail money and the fine."

"Don't do that," Lucas argues. "This is all my fault, Eliott. Let me pay your parents back."

"Like we'd actually accept anything, Lucas," Flavie comments airily as she walks up to them. She kisses Lucas's cheeks. "Nice try though."

"But…"

"No buts, Lucas," Julien chimes in.

That’s not going to fly with Lucas and he’s about to say so when Flavie pulls out her phone and says, "It's nearly noon. Let's get lunch. Lucas, we'd love to have you come with us."

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Dr Abebe's office is the same as it was three months ago. Framed medical degree. Formal photos of his perfect family. And randomly a collection of tiny clowns in what Lucas hopes is an attempt to inject some humor into humorless situations. The man himself sits behind his big mahogany desk, sporting his typical white coat and green bowtie. His mother sits next to him squeezing his hand so hard Lucas is starting to lose feeling in the tips of his fingers.

Then he's smiling at them, a wide happy one that catches Lucas off guard. He's not used to seeing doctors smile. "Mme Lallement, I am so very happy to tell you that the tumor has shrunk. We will have to continue with your treatments but this is good. This is very good."

Lucas wants to celebrate, to jump from his chair and holler, but his mom's glued to her chair, breathing hard. Almost hyperventilating.

"It's gone down?" She's scared. As if speaking somehow would jinx the news.

"Yes. Your tumor markers have decreased and the imaging shows the tumor has decreased by 50%."

She places a hand to her mouth. She's trembling all over but her eyes are bright. Happy. "My god," she whispers, low and fervent. "I never expected...are you absolutely sure, doctor?"

"Yes, mme Lallement," Dr Abebe reassures her gently.

She's sobbing as she pulls Lucas into a massive hug. He buries his wet face in her neck and cries too.

She's going to make it!

His mom officially breaks the news to the Demaury’s over dinner. Food's laid out over the dining room table, wine flows easily, and laughter rings throughout the room. Julien disappears as Flavie and Marie hug and reappears with a bottle of champagne. Eliott hugs Lucas’s mom next, eyes shiny with big tears, kissing her cheeks and whispering something to her which makes her smile and cup a hand to his cheek. Their spirits are high that evening. Lucas knows there will be more months of chemo to follow after tonight but Marie Lallement is a fighter and he will be with her every step of the way.

* * *

  
  
  


It’s the start of the first school holiday and with the prospect of tackling his mountain of homework on the very near horizon, Lucas huddles under the blanket, eyes squeezed shut because he just wants to sleep. But Eliott's gone and it's no fun to be in bed alone.

Thoughts slowly form as Lucas comes to. Where is Eliott?

"Shit!" 

He's out of bed and in the kitchen like a rocket and starts making coffee. It's Saturday and they have their routine. Lucas can't forget their routine. As dopey as it sounds it's actually the highlight of his week. The front door opens as Lucas is pouring out the coffee into two mugs. Eliott rounds the corner of the small foyer, cheeks pink from the autumnal air, with a bag of pastries.

"Good morning, my love," he says in a sweet voice, kissing Lucas. 

Lucas wraps his arms around him. He smells like the cool fresh air outside. "Good morning," he replies softly, still half asleep. "I didn't hear you get up."

Another quick kiss. "Didn't want to wake you."

They eat breakfast in the kitchen, Lucas slouching so he can rest his bare feet on Eliott's thighs. The sounds of their neighbors slowly waking up fill the air around them. The family upstairs with their toddler. The old woman next door with the poodle. There’s a truck in the courtyard below, honking its horn despite the time.

Typical apartment life.

"What do you want to do today,” Eliott asks as he finishes off his second pastry. “Sleep?"

Was Lucas ever going to get used to this? Seeing Eliott every single day? In the morning light when sleep still lingering in his eyes? In the afternoon when his smile was just as bright as the sun? In the evening when his arms were as gentle as starlight?

He doesn't hope so. Not in this universe anyway.

"No," Lucas eventually answers, aware that he had gotten a little lost in his thoughts. "I was thinking we could go for a walk."

Eliott looks as pleased as punch. "I got duck food."

"Seriously? What's wrong with bread?"

"Lucas! Bread kills ducks." The horrified look on Eliott’s face is nearly comical but Lucas holds his laughter.

"Since when?"

"Since forever." 

Lucas rolls his eyes. He's never known a duck dying from eating bread but this is a hill Eliott decided he'll die on so Lucas surrenders. If Eliott wants to waste his money on duck food so be it. 

They leave the apartment after breakfast, bundled up in jackets and scarves. The air is cool enough to warrant layers in the morning and it nips at Lucas's cheeks and nose as they walk to the bus stop. Eliott has his secondhand camera and Lucas carries the small bag of duck feed, feeling like a nature-loving environmentalist.

"If you keep fiddling with it, you'll drop it," Lucas murmurs as Eliott toys with his camera.

"I won't drop it. That's what the strap is for."

"Then at least watch where you're going."

"I won't run into anything," Eliott says stubbornly. "That's what a Lucas is for."

"To run into things?"

Laughter bubbles out of Eliott. "No! To warn me!"

Lucas snorts. "Dumbass."

Eliott's smile is the epitome of cheek. "At least I'm your dumbass."

"Ok, fine. Where do you want to go?"

"Buttes Chaumont? We haven't been there in a while."

"Yeah." Lucas is already picturing the park in the midst of the changing leaves and grabs hold of Eliott’s hand. He gives it a little squeeze. "Sounds perfect."

It's perfect because it's Saturday and Lucas has the best boyfriend in the world.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! Thank you so much for reading, commenting, and giving me kudos! I'm katzen-kinder on tubmlr. Come say hi :)


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